fc 


ANGLED  UP  fly 


DOUBLEDAY  PACE  V  CO 

I      Q      O     2 

*  "1^ 


COPYRIGHT,  1901,  1902,  BY 
JOHN  WANAMAKER. 

COPYRIGHT,  1902,  BY 
DOUBLEDAY,  PAGE  &  COMPANY. 

PUBLISHED  JUNE,  1902. 


NnrfaooU 
i.  8.  dishing  &  Co.  —  Berwick  &  Smith 
Norwood  Mass.  U.S.A. 


84* 


CHAPTER   I 


The  Disturbing  Duckling 


PAGE 
I 


CHAPTER   II 

Affection  as  a  Gay  Deceiver       .          .         .         ,         .20 

CHAPTER  III 

Where  is  Tuskaloo  ?......       42 

CHAPTER   IV 
The  Rose  Bench     .,         .         .          .         .         .61 

CHAPTER   V 

The  Swirl      ........       80 


CHAPTER  VI 
The  Secession  of  Polly      .... 


99 


CONTENTS 
CHAPTER  VII 

PAGE 

The  Capitulation  of  Polly  .          .          .          ,          .120 

CHAPTER   VIII 

In  which  I  struggle  with  My  Own  Web      .          .          .137 

CHAPTER   IX 

Five  O'Clock  in  the  Morning    .          .          .          .          .161 

CHAPTER    X 

In  which  I  become  a  Nonentity  .          .          .          .178 

CHAPTER   XI 

The  Tournament  and  what  came  of  it  .          .          .197 

CHAPTER   XII 

Polly  untangles        .          .          .          .          .          .          .215 


VI 


GLED/UP 
BEULAH  LAND 


CHAPTER   I 

THE    DISTURBING    DUCKLING 

Y  excellent  half-sister,  Madame 
Petunia  Dewey,  looked  at  me 
with  a  sparkling  superiority  as 
she  said :  — 

"  A  conscience  in  a  disreputably 
comfortable  man  of  fifty-four  is 
nothing  more  than  a  moral  gout.  Its  twinges 
annoy  without  awakening  him.  He  wraps  some 
more  flannels  about  his  judgment,  and  waits  for 
the  east  wind  to  stop  blowing." 

Petunia  looked  light  and  airy  in  her  morning 
wrap.     I  often  thought  that  her  conversation  was 


TANGLED  UP  IN  BEULAH  LAND 

a  sort  of  glitter,  like  her  white  hands  when  she 
made  a  gesture,  as  if  she  had  gems  that  she  wished 
to  exhibit.  Even  her  reproaches  shone  a  little 
when  she  had  that  crepe  wrap  on.  But  she  was 
a  woman  of  the  world,  and  had  acquired  some 
kind  of  perfumed  wisdom  from  many  parterres, 
or  had  it  acquired  for  her,  like  a  queen  bee,  so  I 
forgave  the  prompt  monitorial  attitude,  and  tried 
to  let  her  see  that  I  bowed  to  her  superiority. 

"  Petunia,"  I  said,  "  I  am  a  little  worried." 

"  I  don't  believe  it,"  she  replied.  "  You  are 
trying  to  coax  yourself  into  the  belief  that  you 
can  be  worried  like  other  human  beings.  You 
cannot  even  assume  the  air  of  it." 

"  Oh,  but  I  am.  I  never  was  good  at  assuming 
airs.  If  I  suffer  at  all,  it  is  undramatically.  My 
feelings  are  singularly  devoid  of  local  colour." 

"  Has  your  valet  struck?  " 

"  Try  and  be  serious  a  moment." 

"  Has  your  doctor  cut  down  on  your  cigars  ?  " 

"  My  dear  Petunia,  I  think  I  have  passed  the 
point  at  which  these  things  annoy  me." 

She  assumed  an  attitude  and  expression  of  pro- 
found curiosity.  "  Will  you  tell  me,"  she  said, 
"  what  things  can  annoy  you  ?  " 

"  You  are  a  very  brilliant  example  of  one  of 
the  things  that  cannot.  Try  and  put  yourself  in 
my  place  a  moment." 

"It  is  the  most  preposterous  of  impossibilities. 
Ask  me  to  have  myself  embalmed  before  death ; 
to  take  the  veil,  or  hasheesh  —  or  give  absent 
treatment  —  anything,  Rufus,  except  to  put  my- 

2 


THE   DISTURBING   DUCKLING 

self  in  your  place.  Why  should  one  indulge  in 
such  fantastic  feats  of  the  imagination  ?  " 

"  Because,"  I  said  mildly,  "  it  would  be  more 
rational  than  to  indulge  in  unbridled  persiflage 
when  a  human  being  and  a  brother  comes  to  you 
with  a  misgiving  and  asks  you  for  advice." 

"  Brother,  I  allow,"  she  replied,  "  I  cannot  help 
myself.  But  human  being,  Rufus  —  isn't  that 
rather  a  large  assumption  ?  Human  beings  are 
supposed  to  have  some  relation  to  the  rest  of  the 
world.  You  are  only  related  to  your  club  and 
your  son." 

"  Can  it  be  possible  that  you  regard  the  latter 
attachment  as  a  misfortune  ?  " 

"  Certainly,  to  the  son.  He  was  probably  in- 
tended, in  the  nature  of  things,  to  be  part  of  the 
social  system.  You  have  succeeded  in  making 
him  an  annex  of  your  own  comfort." 

"  You  are  disposed  to  be  exceedingly  ungracious 
this  morning,"  I  said.  "  If  your  acerbity  is  the 
result  of  the  social  fruit,  I  ought  to  congratulate 
myself  that  Charlie  has  been  kept  out  of  the 
orchard." 

"  I  think,"  she  remarked,  "that  if  he  had  been 
allowed  to  eat  a  few  of  the  green  apples  it  would 
have  benefited  him.  Life  has  its  necessary  colics  — 
at  least  for  young  men,  and  they  are  probably  dis- 
ciplinary. Does  it  ever  occur  to  you  that  you 
have  been  trying  to  teach  your  one  duckling  that 
it  is  immoral  to  swim  ? " 

"  It  is  rather  unjust  to  assume  that  I  have  de- 
tached myself  from  all  human  interests  because 

3 


TANGLED  UP  IN  BEULAH  LAND 

your  Thursday  nights  bore  me  a  little.  I  try  to 
do  my  duty  to  society  in  a  comfortable  way.  I 
lent  my  name  to  a  reform  club,  though  I'm  not 
aware  that  anything  has  been  reformed.  I  give 
a  hundred  dollars  a  year  to  your  University  Set- 
tlement affair  somewhere,  and  I  suppose  the  money 
is  properly  wasted  in  committees.  I  have  recently 
served  one  term  on  the  grand  jury  and  helped 
to  indict  a  number  of  my  fellow-citizens.  It  inter- 
fered very  much  with  my  afternoon  nap,  but 
it  left  a  comfortable  feeling  that  nothing  would 
ever  come  of  the  indictments.  Do  you  know 
what  my  pew  costs  me  ?  I  rented  it  to  please 
you." 

"  I  don't  see  why  you  should  growl  about  that. 
It  was  understood  that  if  you  paid  in  advance, 
you  would  not  be  expected  to  occupy  it." 

"  I  make  it  a  matter  of  conscience,"  I  said, 
"  to  go  to  the  opera  with  Charlie  occasionally, 
and  1  think  I  can  say  truthfully  that  I  try  to 
look  interested,  and  never  by  any  means  betray 
that  I've  heard  the  Jewel  Song  regularly  for  the 
last  thirty  years,  and  read  the  same  article  about 
it  every  morning  during  that  time." 

"  Delightful !  "  exclaimed  Petunia.  "  After  all, 
perhaps  you  are  exhausted  by  your  public  duties. 
That  had  not  occurred  to  me." 

"On  the  contrary,  it  is  my  private  duty  that  I 
wish  to  speak  to  you  about.  You  feel,  at  least,  a 
woman's  interest  in  the  future  of  that  boy.  Con- 
sider a  moment  —  his  mother  left  him  in  trust  to 
me  sacredly.  I  have  given  up  most  of  the  things 


THE   DISTURBING   DUCKLING 

in  life  that  a  man  at  my  age  enjoys  in  order  to 
guard  and  shape  his  future.  We  have  been  com- 
panions, confidants,  ever  since  he  and  I  came  out 
of  that  experiment  in  the  Hotchkiss  woods  ten 
years  ago.  I  have  made  it  the  one  purpose  of 
my  life  to  correct  and  redeem  in  his  the  errors 
and  shortcomings  of  mine.  I  think  that  you  will 
acknowledge  that  Charlie  has  been  kept  clean  and 
sweet  as  a  girl,  shielded  from  all  the  temptations 
and  unsmirched  by  any  of  the  profligacies  that 
make  up  the  curriculum  of  the  well-to-do  young 
man  of  our  day." 

My  excellent  sister  took  a  long  breath  at  the 
end  of  my  preludium,  but  she  did  it  very  much 
as  if  she  had  said,  "  You  are  not  candid  enough  to 
gasp  at  your  own  folly,  so  I  will  do  it  for  you." 
Then  she  remarked  quite  purringly :  — 

"  Very  well,  conceding  the  superhuman  beauty 
of  your  paternalism,  what  is  it  is  worrying  you  ? 
Has  the  moral  superiority  of  your  duckling  begun 
to  frighten  you  ?  " 

"  Charlie,"  I  observed,  "  is  of  a  fine,  suscep- 
tible nature,  liable  to  make  irremediable  mistakes 
on  the  side  of  his  affections,  and  though  I  have 
endeavoured  to  strengthen  his  judgment  and  de- 
velop his  moral  sense  of  values  —  " 

"  The  boy  is  in  love,"  said  Petunia ;  "  is 
that  it?" 

"  I  don't  think  that  he  could  reach  that  unfor- 
tunate condition  without  confiding  it  to  me.  No, 
I  will  not  say  that  he  is  in  love,  but  it  might 
result  in  that." 


TANGLED  UP  IN  BEULAH  LAND 

"  What  might  ?  " 

"  His  boyish  fancy  for  some  passing  and  pos- 
sibly unworthy  person." 

"  Who  is  it  ?  " 

"  I  have  not  the  slightest  idea." 

"  Certainly  —  I  might  have  known  that." 

"You  understand  that  our  relations  are  such 
that  I  trust  entirely  to  his  honour,  his  training, 
and  his  habit  of  confiding  in  me.  But,  with  the 
very  best  of  educational  advantages,  a  boy  of 
nineteen  is  apt  to  be  blinded  by  his  senses." 

"  It  isn't  the  worst  kind  of  blindness,"  re- 
marked Petunia.  "  He  never  can  be  morally 
stone  blind  till  he  reaches  fifty-four." 

"  Oh,  come  now,  you  do  not  think  that  I  am 
blind ! " 

"  Totally  and  irretrievably,  so  far  as  that  boy 
is  concerned.  You  are  afflicted  by  what  ought  to 
be  called  doting  cataracts.  What  is  it  you  have 
discovered? " 

"  Nothing  of  any  importance,  I  assure  you. 
Perhaps  I  am  inclined  to  magnify  trifles,  but  the 
other  night,  when  he  had  gone  out,  I  came  upon 
a  little  half-open  note  that  he  had  left  on  the 
table  carelessly." 

"Ah,"  said  Petunia,  with  suddenly  awakened 
interest,  "  you  read  it." 

"  Pardon  me ;  I  did  not.  I  would  not  take 
advantage  of  his  carelessness.  But  I  saw  one 
line  before  I  could  help  it." 

"  What  incredible  forbearance  —  and  that  line 
was  —  " 


THE   DISTURBING   DUCKLING 

" '  Darling.'  " 

Petunia  seemed  to  break  out  into  an  extra 
bloom  of  laughter.  Perhaps  the  word  awoke 
tender  and  joyful  memories  in  her. 

"  You  do  not  detect  anything  sad  in  it  ? "  I 
inquired. 

"Sad!"  she  exclaimed.  "Why,  it  is  the  first 
peep  of  exultant  nature." 

"  But  there  was  something  else  visible  at  the 
top  of  the  paper,  and  I  could  not  avoid  see- 
ing it." 

"  Yes,"  said  my  sister,  holding  her  jewelled 
fingers  over  her  mouth,  "  it  was,  f  My  only, 
onliest,'  or  some  other  throbbing  incoherence." 

"  No.     It  was  — c  Wallack's  Theatre.' ' 

"Yes,"  said  Petunia,  in  quite  a  matter-of-fact 
way,  "  how  fortunate !  It  might  have  been 
vaudeville." 

"The  association  does  not  appear  to  startle 
you." 

"  No.     It  lacks  the  element  of  surprise." 

"  Then  you  knew  something  of  it  ?  " 

"How  could  I  help  it?  Everybody  is  not  as 
blind  as  you  are." 

"  And  you  never  told  me,"  I  said  pathetically, 
as  I  buttoned  my  coat. 

"  My  dear  Rufus,  a  man  who  will  not  read  his 
son's  letters  will  not  take  his  sister's  advice.  Be- 
sides, it  is  not  proper  form  to  nip  love's  young 
dream  in  the  bud  nowadays.  The  boy  will  have 
his  own  way,  and  why  waste  anxiety  about  it  ? " 

"  Pardon  me,"  I  said,  "  I  don't  intend  that  he 

7 


TANGLED  UP  IN  BEULAH  LAND 

shall,  and,  for  that  matter,"  I  added,  as  I  got  up, 
"  neither  shall  you." 

"  Really  now,  you  speak  as  if  I  furnished  him 
with  money  and  shut  my  eyes  on  his  conduct  and 
believed  in  his  archangel  nature.  You  are  doing 
me  a  great  injustice,  Rufus,  and  it  wounds  me." 

And  then  my  sister  drew  her  handkerchief 
across  one  eye  with  a  dainty  flourish. 

"  Are  you  aware,"  I  said,  as  I  stood  in  the 
middle  of  the  room  in  a  suspensive  attitude, 
between  an  indignant  retreat  and  a  final  appeal 
— "  are  you  aware  of  what  boyish  folly  of  this 
kind  may  result  in  ?  " 

"  I  can  estimate  the  chances,"  she  said.  "  Ordi- 
narily a  flirtation  and  some  needed  experience. 
But  with  a  specially  susceptible  duckling,  liable  to 
have  fifteen  or  twenty  thousand  a  year,  it's  like 
the  scarlet  fever,  and  apt  to  leave  chronic  compli- 
cations. Have  you  inquired  —  they  may  be  mar- 
ried already,  you  know,  and  up  to  their  ankles  in 
spilt  milk." 

Something  in  my  appearance  must  have  touched 
her  at  last,  for  she  got  up  and  came  to  me,  leaving 
her  badinage  behind  her. 

"  I  see  you  are  shocked,"  she  said. 

"  Terribly.  You  do  not  understand  how  fatally 
my  life  is  wound  up  in  that  boy's." 

"  I  am  glad,"  she  said,  "  if  I  have  shocked  you. 
I  hardly  believed  it  possible,  and  shock  is  such  a 
necessary  method  of  nature  and  art,  from  earth- 
quakes to  idols.  You  take  it  too  seriously.  Men 
are  different  from  women  ;  somebody  has  said  that 

8 


THE   DISTURBING   DUCKLING 

if  they  were  never  knocked  down  they  would  never 
get  up  —  it  must  have  been  an  Irishman.  At  the 
worst,  the  affair  would  only  be  temporary.  Charlie 
would  probably  get  divorced  in  six  months." 

"Petunia,"  I  replied,  with  as  much  dignity  as 
I  could  command,  "  I  feel  that  in  this  matter  we 
are  talking  at  each  other  from  different  worlds. 
You  do  not  know  how  deep  it  reaches  down  into 
my  hopes  and  happiness." 

"  No,"  she  said,  "  I  haven't  thought  it  neces- 
sary to  dive  so  deep,  when  a  small  amount  of  prac- 
tical sense  on  your  part  would  stop  the  nonsense 
by  stopping  the  supplies." 

She  must  have  seen  me  shrink  a  little  at  the 
proposition,  for  she  added:  — 

"  But  of  course  you  will  never  do  that,  on 
account  of  the  boy's  confidence  in  you." 

"  I  am  not  thinking  of  punitive  measures  — 
only  of  the  temperament,  the  inexperience,  and 
the  sad  disappointment." 

"  Isn't  that  about  what  the  hen  said  to  the 
duckling.  Consider  the  dry  barnyard,  the  com- 
fortable roost,  and  beware  of  the  duck  pond,  with 
its  snapping  turtles  and  bullfrogs.  Do  you  know 
what  the  duckling  said  ?  You  have  probably  for- 
gotten. It  was  this,  *  I  prefer  them  —  it  is  life.' ' 

My  interview  with  Petunia  was  discouraging. 
She  evidently  knew  more  about  the  conduct  of 
Charlie  than  she  had  cared  to  tell  me.  Then,  too, 
I  had  an  ill-defined  consciousness  of  my  own 
comfortable  remissness,  upon  which  she  had  so 
adroitly  put  her  flashing  finger.  I  found  myself 


TANGLED  UP  IN  BEULAH  LAND 

hurrying  away  in  my  walk,  very  much  as  if  there 
was  not  much  time. 

I  had  gone  to  a  woman  of  the  world  in  what  I 
conceived  to  be  a  purely  worldly  matter.  I  would 
now  try  a  man  of  the  world.  Men  grasped  these 
matters  more  firmly.  There  was  my  old  friend, 
Major  Downs,  at  the  Club;  he  had  just  the  kind 
of  sagacity  to  handle  such  a  case.  Somebody  had 
said  he  was  a  Major  Pendennis.  With  a  Fother- 
ingay  on  my  hands,  what  could  be  more  appro- 
priate than  a  Major  Pendennis. 

He  sat,  as  usual,  at  the  Club  window,  watching 
the  afternoon  procession  on  the  Avenue.  If  it 
were  not  for  his  white  side-whiskers  and  equally 
white  mustache  and  very  pink  cheeks,  I  should 
have  likened  him  to  a  gargoyle  over  a  temple 
door,  for  he  was  always  there,  watching  the  coming 
and  going,  with  the  same  unalterable  stare.  The 
animated  drift  of  equipages  had  for  him  some  kind 
of  personal  responsibility,  as  if  he  had  become  its 
automatic  indicator,  and  must  note  correctly  every 
day  in  the  year  if  A  were  driving  his  bays  and  B 
had  his  tandem  out  and  C  was  in  proper  fettle. 

"  Pull  a  chair  up,"  he  said.  "  The  turnout  is 
very  fine  to-day.  D  has  just  gone  up  with  his 
drag.  I  really  didn't  know  he  was  back." 

"  D,"  I  said  to  myself;  "  it  will  take  him  an 
hour  to  get  through  the  rest  of  the  alphabet." 

"  I'm  going  to  smoke  a  cigar  in  the  reading- 
room,  Major.  I  wish  you  would  join  me  at 
dinner  when  the  show  is  over." 

"  Yes,  yes,"  he  replied  impatiently,  as  if  I  were 
10 


THE    DISTURBING   DUCKLING 

disturbing  his  view,  as  he  bowed  to  somebody, 
"  yes,  yes ;  E  is  in  F's  landau.  They  must  have 
made  up.  New  coachman,  too.  I  suppose  that 
old  match  will  be  consummated  now." 

"  I  will  be  in  the  reading-room,"  I  said,  and 
walked  away. 

When  he  joined  me  later  at  dinner,  he  was  so 
full  of  the  afternoon  drift  that  it  was  some  time 
before  I  could  get  him  around  to  my  affairs,  and 
I  had  to  approach  the  matter  with  a  guarded  in- 
difference. 

"  Don't  you  find  the  season  intolerably  dull  ? " 
I  asked. 

"  Oh,  just  the  usual  dulness.  I  haven't  noticed 
anything  extra  in  it.  Nothing  happens  this  time 
of  year." 

"  Nothing  going  on  even  at  the  theatres  ? " 

He  looked  up  from  his  plate  as  if  the  drop 
from  society  to  the  theatre  was  not  altogether 
excusable.  "  I  don't  think  any  of  our  set  are 
going  to  the  theatres  now,"  he  said.  "It's  a 
little  late  in  the  season." 

"  By  our  set  you  mean  the  old  fellows." 

"  Oh,  the  young  fellows  have  no  regard  for  the 
calendar.  Some  of  them  would  go  to  the  theatre 
on  Good  Friday  if  the  ballet  was  a  new  one." 

"  Major,"  I  said,  "  you  can  give  me  a  little 
advice.  Did  you  not  have  some  trouble  as 
guardian  with  your  nephews  ?  " 

"  Oh,  just  the  ordinary  trouble,  the  regular 
thing." 

"  One  of  the  boys  made  a  mesalliance  —  " 
ii 


TANGLED  UP  IN  BEULAH  LAND 

"  Oh,  that  affair  was  just  the  ordinary  thing. 
They  were  divorced,  you  know,  and  the  matter 
fixed  up." 

"  But  you  tried  to  prevent  it? " 

"  Not  I.  I  never  try  to  prevent  that  sort  of 
thing.  Go  it,  I  said  to  the  young  scamp.  If  you 
didn't  do  this,  you  would  do  something  worse. 
Go  it  while  you're  young." 

"  Oh,"  I  remarked,  somewhat  taken  aback,  "  I 
got  the  impression  somewhere  that  you  succeeded 
in  preventing  the  affair,  and  I  was  going  to  ask 
you  how  you  set  about  it." 

"  Prevent  it  ?  "  said  the  Major,  with  admirable 
surprise,  as  he  held  the  bottle  of  Burgundy  over 
his  wine-glass.  "  You  can't  prevent  it  —  exploded 
idea,  sir.  Much  the  best  plan  to  let  the  fellow 
have  his  swing  and  have  done  with  it." 

"  You  speak  as  if  a  swing  limited  itself." 

"  Quite  right  —  quite  right.  It's  like  any  other 
debauch.  Is  your  colt  kicking  ?  " 

"  No,  no  —  not  at  all  —  not  at  all." 

"  If  he  is,  give  him  the  run  of  the  paddock. 
Whatever  you  pour  into  his  head  will  run  out  of 
his  heels.  When  he  gets  tired  he  will  come  into 
the  box  stall  and  behave  himself." 

"  And  bring  another  colt  with  him,  perhaps." 

"  Oh,  temporarily  — just  the  ordinary  af-filly- 
ation,"  and  the  Major  smacked  his  lips  at  his  pun. 

"  As  you  are  pleased  to  use  the  stock-breeder's 
language,  Major,"  I  said,  "  let  me  remind  you 
that  society  would  do  well  to  imitate  his  scrupulous 
care  of  his  stock." 

12 


THE    DISTURBING   DUCKLING 

"  Egad,"  said  the  Major,  "  I  suppose  it  does 
try  to,  but  the  tendency  of  the  times  is  against  it, 
and  the  stock  insist  on  taking  care  of  themselves. 
This  is  a  liberal  age,  you  know.  Too  d d  lib- 
eral, I  suppose,  for  some  of  us  old  fellows.  We 
can't  keep  up  the  lines  of  caste  now  without  going 
abroad  to  live.  Why,  sir,  when  you  and  I  were 
young  men  and  had  our  swing,  —  and  we  did  have 
it,  old  chap,  —  we  drew  the  line  at  anything  like 
permanent  alliances.  By  Jove,  the  old  governors 
wouldn't  have  it.  I  remember,  in  the  sixties, 
I  was  smitten,  along  with  a  number  of  other 
young  fellows,  by  Bonfanti  —  you  remember 
Bonfanti  ? " 

"Bonfanti,"  I  repeated;  "the  name  sounds 
familiar.  A  French  actress  ?  " 

"  No,  just  a  premiere  assoluta.  We  used  to 
squander  a  good  deal  of  money  on  tuberoses  and 
japonicas — you  remember  tuberoses  and  japonicas 
were  the  rage  in  the  early  sixties  —  but,  by  Jove, 
sir,  nobody  thought  of  setting  her  down  in  his 
family  circle.  Why,  sir,  we  had  dowagers  then 
who  would  have  blighted  her  with  a  look.  We 
took  our  divertisements  like  gentlemen  then,  not 
like  business  men.  I  don't  know  whether  the 
theatre  has  come  up  or  society  has  come  down, 
but  I'll  be  hanged  if  the  old  chalk-line  between 
them  hasn't  disappeared.  Madame  Grampus  said 
a  good  thing  the  other  night  at  the  Polchers'  — 
what  the  deuce  was  it ;  wait  a  moment  —  oh,  yes, 
says  she,  (  The  theatre  is  a  place  now  where  the 
curtain  alone  separates  the  professional  beauties 


TANGLED  UP  IN  BEULAH  LAND 

who  have  their  chance  from  the  professional  beau- 
ties who  haven't.'  Rather  good  that,  eh  ?  " 

"  Rather  a  sweeping  imputation,  Major,"  I  re- 
marked. 

"  Deuced  clever,  though,"  replied  the  Major, 
his  idea  of  what  is  deucedly  clever  being  much 
more  liberal  than  mine. 

"You  know,"  he  went  on,  "one  of  the  Polcher 
boys  was  educated  for  a  clergyman,  and  he  came 
home  one  day  with  a  soubrette  on  his  arm." 

"Married?" 

"Well,  that  was  the  professional  claim.  I 
think  it  cost  old  Polcher  something  like  ten  thou- 
sand to  get  his  cub  out  of  it,  and  the  fun  of  it  was 
that  the  girl  turned  out  to  have  a  better  theo- 
logical education  than  the  Polcher.  Now,  you 
wouldn't  look  for  that  sort  of  thing  on  the  stage 
when  we  were  young,  would  you  ?  Let  them 
alone  for  a  year,  I  said  to  old  Polcher,  and  it  will 
fix  itself.  What  can  you  expect  if  you  begin  to 
hamper  these  young  fellows  with  theology  before 
they  get  their  eye-teeth  cut.  They  must  have 
their  experience  first  and  their  morality  after- 
ward." 

I  had  never  given  much  attention  to  large  edu- 
cational matters,  but  this  presentation  of  the  rising 
generation  as  inverted  pyramids  must  have  lit  up 
my  face  as  if  a  popular  cartoon  had  passed  by. 
The  Major  must  have  seen  it,  for  he  went  on 
assuringly :  — 

"  Fact,  sure  as  you  live.  Why,  I  remember 
when  our  governors  used  to  say,  train  up  a  child 


THE    DISTURBING   DUCKLING 

in  the  way  he  should  go,  and  when  he  is  old  he 
will  not  bolt  the  track.  You  remember  that  it 
was  the  school  motto  over  the  teacher's  desk. 
Bless  my  soul,  those  old  fellows  really  believed  it. 
But  you  don't  see  it  now.  Got  broader  views. 
Leave  them  alone,  and  they'll  come  home  and 
bring  their  tails  behind  them,  doesn't  look  well 
worked  in  worsted — so  now  we  work  it  in  taffeta." 

These  glistening  gems  of  thought,  thrown  off 
over  his  wine  by  the  Major,  made  me  feel  very 
lonely,  and  I  could  not  help  regarding  the  Major 
for  the  moment  as  a  social  siphon  intent  only  on 
aerating  the  conversation. 

I  had  a  personal  grievance,  a  private  bereave- 
ment, and  it  was  very  plain  that  the  Major  would 
regard  it  as  one  of  those  weaknesses  out  of  which 
a  man  of  the  world  should  grow.  I  ought  to 
have  arrived  at  "just  the  ordinary  indifference  " 
to  any  such  foolishness  as  was  involved  in  trying 
to  keep  my  boy  from  traversing  my  old  tracks. 
It  was  impossible  either  to  make  my  excellent 
half-sister  or  the  Major  understand  how  my  ma- 
ture roots  had  become  entangled  in  this  sapling, 
and  how  I  resented,  with  ail  my  might,  the  idea 
of  giving  him  up  to  his  "  swing." 

The  boy  had  come  home  from  college  six 
months  before,  looking  a  little  worn  and  pale, 
and  the  physician  had  said  he  must  have  a  year's 
rest.  We  had  taken  the  elegant  apartments  up- 
town, and  had  gone  into  that  luxurious  bachelor 
chumship  so  seldom  sustained  by  father  and  son, 
and  which  I  fondly  believed  was  a  renewal  of  the 

15 


TANGLED  UP  IN  BEULAH  LAND 

pleasant  companionship  of  former  days,  when  we 
were  boys  together  off  there  in  the  Hotchkiss 
woods. 

Now  that  there  was  some  uncertain  danger  of 
being  compelled  to  give  the  fellow  up  to  his  own 
courses,  I  became  aware  of  how  inextricably 
woven  into  me  were  all  the  hopes  and  gentler 
ambitions  and  reliant  affections  that  our  compan- 
ionship had  nurtured.  I  believe  I  could  have 
given  the  rascal  up  and  said,  "  God  speed,  Com- 
rade," if  I  had  been  confident  that  his  departure 
was  insured  against  the  pitfalls,  the  rocks,  the 
sirens,  and  miserable  mistakes  through  which  I 
had  laboriously  come.  It  would  be  unbearably 
forlorn  for  me,  no  doubt,  but  I  would  weather  it 
through  somehow.  The  covert  allusions  of  my 
sister  and  the  Major  hurt  me.  They  both  as- 
sumed that  Charlie  had  easily  and  naturally  lent 
himself  to  some  kind  of  hypocrisy,  and  was  lead- 
ing one  life  to  my  face  and  another  behind  my 
back.  I  blushed  at  the  recreancy  to  Charlie  of 
such  a  thought.  I  would  read  the  truth  in  his 
candid  face.  At  the  worst,  I  said,  I  have  the 
matter  in  my  own  hands,  and  can  at  any  time 
shut  off  the  supplies  and  bring  him  up  with  a 
round  turn. 

He  did  not  return  to  the  rooms  until  one 
o'clock  that  night.  When  he  opened  the  door 
he  started  a  little,  I  thought,  to  see  me  sitting  up 
so  late. 

"  Been  to  the  theatre  ? "  I  asked,  as  uncon- 
cernedly as  possible. 

16 


THE   DISTURBING   DUCKLING 

"Yes." 

"  What  theatre  ?  " 

"  Wallack's,"  and  he  bustled  round  getting  off 
his  dress  coat  and  slipping  on  a  jacket. 

"  Anything  interesting  to  be  seen  there  ?  " 

"  English  burlesque.  Some  interesting  people 
in  it." 

"  Ah  —  would  it  interest  me  ?  " 

"  Hardly ;  you  are  not  easily  interested,  Dad." 

This,  I  thought,  was  the  first  intimation  that 
there  was  a  divergence  in  our  tastes.  He  came 
over  to  the  table  and  saw  the  open  letter  with  its 
telltale  heading,  where  he  had  dropped  it,  and, 
picking  it  up  with  a  passing  expression  of  annoy- 
ance at  his  own  carelessness,  put  it  in  his  jacket 
pocket.  The  act  was  a  fine  example  of  the  deli- 
cacy of  our  relationship.  He  knew  I  had  not 
read  the  letter.  "  What  kept  you  up  so  late  ?  " 
he  asked. 

"  Was  looking  over  some  old  papers." 

"  Did  you  dine  at  the  Club  ?  " 

"  Yes,  with  Major  Downs.  It  was  very  dull. 
In  fact,  the  town  has  got  so  dull  that  I  was  going 
to  propose  that  we  run  away  somewheres." 

"  You  don't  mean  abroad  ?  "  with  a  little,  sud- 
den start,  I  thought. 

"Why  not?     I'm  getting  almost  lonely." 

"  Why,  I  was  saying  only  this  morning,  how 
pleasant  the  town  is  becoming,  now  that  the  bores 
are  all  leaving  it." 

"  Perhaps  you  would  like  me  to  clear  out  on 
that  theory,  Comrade  ?  " 

17 


TANGLED  UP  IN  BEULAH  LAND 

He  had  gone  over  to  the  bookcase,  and  was 
looking  for  a  novel,  with  his  back  toward  me. 
At  this  remark  he  turned  squarely  around  and 
looked  at  me  inquiringly,  with  a  copy  of  Mere- 
dith in  his  hands. 

I  could  not  help  remarking  to  myself  how 
handsome  he  looked,  as  his  mother's  features  and 
her  unruffled  candour  of  expression  came  out  in 
the  light  of  the  chandelier  as  he  stood  there. 

"  Go  without  me  ?  "  he  said.  "  You  speak  as 
if  you  thought  it  would  please  me." 

"  Well,  I  have  fallen  into  such  a  habit  of  ac- 
commodating you,  that  I  suppose  I  could  do 
even  that  if  it  would  make  you  more  comfort- 
able." 

"  Oh,  then  cut  it,"  he  said.  "  I'd  look  like  a 
detached  spar  floating  around  in  these  rooms  with- 
out you." 

"  What  do  you  suppose  I  would  look  like, 
floating  around  Europe  without  you  ?  " 

"  Well,  you  can  at  least  wait  till  the  season  is 
over." 

"  Do  you  mean  the  theatrical  season  ?  " 

He  did  not  answer  me  promptly,  and  I 
fumbled  something  on  the  table,  trying  to  recall 
the  words  of  lago  about  "  trifles  light  as  air,"  and 
failing.  I  was  never  good  at  quoting  anything 
literally.  The  theatrical  company  would  be  going 
back  to  England  at  the  end  of  the  season.  I 
waited.  I  felt,  rather  than  saw,  that  there  was  in 
Charlie's  face  an  expression  of  inquiry —  a  possi- 
ble pause  between  suspicion  and  doubt.  Then  he 

18 


THE    DISTURBING    DUCKLING 

came  up  to  me  and  put  his  hand  on  my  shoulder 
in  his  old  affectionate  way,  and  I  felt,  even  before 
he  spoke,  that  candour  had  taken  the  bit  in  its 
mouth. 

"  Dad,"  he  said,  "  I  never  lied  to  you  in  my 
life,  and  it  is  too  late  to  begin  now.  If  there  is 
anything  on  your  mind,  give  it  to  me  straight  and 
let's  have  it  out." 

I  was  not  equal  to  having  it  out.  Something 
forewarned  me  that  if  I  precipitated  the  issue,  he 
would  have  the  best  of  it. 

"  I  never  doubted  you,  Comrade,"  I  said, 
"  and  it's  too  far  into  the  night  to  open  a  new 
catechism.  I  am  going  to  bed.  Good  night." 

"  Good  night,  Dad." 

I  felt  when  I  was  alone  that  I  had  temporized 
with  the  matter  in  a  most  craven  manner.  Some 
kind  of  passive  rage  took  possession  of  me  and 
kept  me  awake.  It  was  not  indignation  at  Charlie, 
but  at  some  impalpable  danger  that  threatened  to 
come  between  us. 

About  half-past  two,  tired  of  my  own  foolish 
perplexities,  and  seeing  the  light  reflected  from 
the  sitting  room,  I  got  up  softly  and,  going  along 
the  passage,  peeped  through  the  portiere.  He 
was  sitting  at  the  table.  Meredith's  novel  was 
turned  face  down,  and,  lying  back  in  the  chair, 
Charlie  was  staring  at  a  photograph  which  he  held 
in  his  hand,  and  his  face  wore  an  expression  that 
I  had  never  seen  there  before. 


CHAPTER   II 


AFFECTION    AS    A    GAY    DECEIVER 


I^s^HAD  taken  lunch  with  my  sister, 
<^&  Mrs.  Petunia  Dewey,  and,  to  get 
(^w§\  rid  of  listeners,  she  had  our  coffee 
cQs^  taken  into  the  conservatory,  where, 
f52g^  she  said,  I  could  smoke  as  violently 
^>crs  as  I  pleased  —  the  smoke  was  an 
insecticide,  and  good  for  her  Madame  Lambard 
tea  roses. 

"So,"  she  said,  as  she  spread  her  laces,  "you 
think  your  heir  has  fallen  among  the  Philistines." 
"  No,  no,  Petunia,  do  not  say  fallen.  He  may 
have  encountered  some  seductive  influences,  and, 
owing  to  his  ignorance  of  the  world,  may  have  had 
his  senses  entangled.  I  thought  if  I  could  get 
him  away,  it  would  be  to  his  benefit  and  my  peace 
of  mind." 

She  smiled  rather  incredulously,  I  thought. 
"  You  don't  believe  he  will  go,"  I  said. 
20 


AFFECTION   AS   A   GAY    DECEIVER 

"  I  was  smiling,"  she  replied,  "  at  your  belief  in 
your  ability  to  carry  him  off.  Men  are  so  credu- 
lous with  respect  to  their  own  strength  at  your 
age." 

"  But  you  understand,"  I  said,  "  that  the  boy 
is  closely  attached  to  me — I  have  always  made 
an  intimate  companion  of  him,  and  I  have  that 
influence  over  him  still  —  " 

She  waved  her  hand  as  if  my  idea  annoyed  her, 
and  she  wished  to  brush  it  away.  "  I  clearly 
understand  that  you  are  so  attached  to  the  boy 
that  you  will  let  him  do  as  he  pleases  in  the  end." 

"  I  think  you  underestimate  my  strength  of 
purpose  as  well  as  my  influence." 

"  Oh,  I  dare  say  it  is  a  fine,  fatherly  feeling, 
but  it  lacks  dramatic  interest  for  a  young  man.  I 
dare  say  he  has  committed  himself  by  this  time, 
without  regard  to  your  arrangements  or  feelings." 

"  You  don't  know  that  he  has  ? "  I  asked 
abruptly. 

"  I  am  not  going  to  worry  you,  Rufus,  by  tell- 
ing you  how  much  I  know.  It  is  enough  for  me 
that  you  have  done  your  best  to  develop  the  fac- 
ulties in  that  boy  that  usually  end  in  a  reckless 
plunge." 

"  Then  you  can  suggest  no  means  by  which  I 
can  save  him  from  what  to  both  of  us  would  be  a 
very  disastrous  mistake  ?  " 

"  Nothing,"  said  Petunia,  "unless  —  "  and  she 
paused. 

"  Unless  what  ?  " 

"  Unless  you  take  a  fatal  plunge  yourself." 

21 


TANGLED  UP  IN  BEULAH  LAND 

"  Marriage  ?     Absurd." 

"  Do  you  think  so  ?  It  might  bring  somebody 
into  the  menage  who  has  a  clearer  idea  of  the 
practicalities  than  you  have.  I  can't  imagine  any- 
thing that  would  fetch  your  boy  to  terms  so  quick 
as  the  prospect  of  it.  There  was  the  Widow 
Coldcream.  It  was  generally  supposed  last  year 
that  she  had  set  her  cap  for  you,  and,  if  I'm  not 
mistaken,  your  young  gentleman  developed  some 
unmistakable  signs  of  sudden  hatred  for  her. 
Coldcream  is  ten  years  younger  than  you  are. 
She  has  a  very  small  income,  it  is  true,  but  she 
moves  in  the  best  circles,  and  it  is  generally  un- 
derstood that  she  has  a  decided  financial  talent. 
She  got  it  from  her  father,  Drake  Coldcream,  who 
was  at  one  time  an  expert  in  handling  other 
people's  estates." 

If  I  were  not  constitutionally  slow  in  my  appre- 
hensions, I  would  have  thanked  my  sister  then 
and  there  for  the  suggestion.  But  at  the  time  I 
was  thinking  only  of  one  thing,  and  it  was  that 
she  knew  more  about  Charlie's  life  than  she  cared 
to  tell  me,  and  I  went  away  considerably  nettled 
to  think  that  nobody  had  the  slightest  confidence 
in  my  ability  to  save  that  boy  from  a  piece  of 
youthful  folly. 

But  I  had  not  walked  two  blocks  before  the 
exercise  freshened  my  faculties.  Something  seemed 
to  occur  to  me.  I  stopped  suddenly,  and,  exclaim- 
ing, "  Well,  bless  my  soul ! "  turned  back  and 
made  my  way  at  a  rapid  pace  to  my  sister's  again. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  Petunia,"  I   said,  as  she 

22 


AFFECTION  AS  A  GAY  DECEIVER 

came  out  in  the  hall  wearing  a  look  of  surprise, 
"  you  don't  happen  to  have  a  photograph  of 
Madame  Coldcream,  do  you  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  she  replied,  with  a  smile,  "  I  think  I 
have.  Sit  down  there  a  moment.  I'll  hunt  it  up 
for  you." 

When  she  put  it  into  my  hands  I  saw  a  picture 
of  a  highly  respectable  and  slightly  prim  elderly 
lady  in  black,  whose  jaw  indicated  considerable 
decision  of  character,  and  whose  attire  showed  a 
rich  but  obdurate  disregard  of  the  prevailing 
mode.  I  put  the  picture  in  my  breast  pocket, 
merely  thanking  my  sister.  But  when  I  reached 
the  door  she  whispered  in  my  ear,  so  that  her  ser- 
vant could  not  hear,  "  I  would  call  on  her  if  I 
were  you." 

Having  reached  my  rooms,  I  found  a  note  for 
me  that  Charlie  had  left :  — 

"Have  gone  to  the  ball  match  —  don't  wait 
dinner  for  me  —  must  be  back,  however,  before 
seven." 

What  a  naive  confession,  I  said.  The  curtain 
rings  up  at  eight,  of  course. 

Everything  Charlie  did  now  was  beginning  to 
be  flavoured  by  my  own  suspicions,  and  I  suppose 
I  was  pretty  melancholy  there  alone  in  the  rooms. 
I  sat  thinking  over  the  past,  and  our  almost 
sacred  intimacy  that  threatened  to  be  disturbed, 
and  something  the  Doctor  had  once  written  to  me 
when  we  were  off  there  in  the  Hotchkiss  woods 
kept  reverberating  in  my  mind.  Finally,  I  got 
out  a  tin  box  and  began  hunting  for  the  letter  to 

23 


TANGLED  UP  IN  BEULAH  LAND 

see  just  exactly  what  it  was  he  had  said,  that  could 
echo  so  freshly  now. 

At  last  I  found  it,  yellow  and  faded.  As  I 
opened  it,  some  dried  lilac  petals  fell  out  of  it.  I 
laid  back  in  my  chair,  with  the  letter  in  my  hand, 
and  mused  a  moment.  The  filmy  smoke  of  my 
cigar  seemed  to  be  wreathed  by  my  fancy  into 
half-human  convolutions,  and  a  Florentine  maid 
went  undulantly  by  and  dissolved  into  thin 
air. 

These  were  the  doctor's  words  that  I  had  tried 
to  recall :  — 

"  The  man  who  has  a  pulpy  replica  that  can 
climb  up  on  his  knees  need  not  waste  regrets  that 
he  cannot  live  his  life  over  again.  He  is  living  it 
over  again.  Let  him  regard  himself  with  fear  and 
trembling.  How  is  he  to  load  the  results  of  his 
experience  into  that  shallop  of  himself  without 
sinking  it  ?  Presently  the  young  sails  will  be  set 
and  you  will  see  yourself  starting  out  to  try  it  all 
over  again.  No  compasses  nor  charts  of  yours 
will  save  him  from  the  sirens.  You  must  sit 
there  on  the  sands  and  wait.  Some  day,  perhaps, 
he  will  come  forlornly  back,  looking  for  the  old 
love,  and,  maybe,  find  only  the  runes  and  the 
water-marks." 

Dear  old  Doctor,  how  unerringly  sad  his  clear 
vision  was,  beside  the  worldly  observations  to 
which  I  had  lately  listened.  I  had  not  heard 
from  him  for  four  years.  He  had  retired  some- 
where, full  of  honours,  and  I  had  no  doubt  was 
still  full  of  vitality.  I  sat  down  and  wrote  him  a 

24 


AFFECTION   AS   A   GAY   DECEIVER 

long  letter,  which,  I  dare  say,  if  I  could  read  it 
now,  would  appear  to  be  absurdly  effusive  and 
appealing. 

It  was  a  stormy  evening,  —  a  bitter  spring  rain 
with  sleet  was  driving  against  the  window,  —  and, 
not  caring  to  venture  out,  I  ordered  a  dinner  for 
two  sent  in ;  and  when  it  was  ready  to  serve, 
Charlie  arrived. 

"There's  no  place  like  home  to-night,  Dad," 
he  remarked. 

"Then  I'll  stay  in  and  keep  you  company,"  I 
replied.  "  I've  ordered  a  good  dinner.  How  is 
your  appetite  ? " 

"  Prime,"  he  said.  "  Let  me  get  my  jacket  on, 
and  I  will  carve  that  capon  for  you."  He  was 
in  excellent  spirits,  and  I  felt  that  he  was  bestow- 
ing upon  me  some  of  the  exhilaration  that  another 
person  had  supplied.  But  I  was  not  to  be  out- 
done by  this  sort  of  elation. 

"  Capital !  "  I  cried.  "  I'll  give  you  the  whole 
evening,  Comrade.  I  suppose  you  do  get  lonely 
here  at  times,  and,  come  to  think  of  it,  it's  a  lonely 
business.  I  shouldn't  be  surprised  if  we  both 
went  off  in  different  directions  looking  for  the 
necessary  female  society." 

"  Both  of  us  ?     Oh,  don't  say  that." 

"  Well,"  I  remarked,  "  it  could  be  made  a  shade 
more  homelike  than  two  men  can  make  it.  But 
we'll  remedy  all  that  in  good  time,  eh  ?  " 

"  Remedy  what  ?  " 

"The  heavy  air  of  bachelordom.  But  it  will 
correct  itself.  Have  a  little  patience,  my  boy. 

25 


TANGLED  UP  IN  BEULAH  LAND 

There,  there,  that  will  do  —  help  yourself.  Will 
you  try  some  of  the  wine  to-night  ?  " 

"  No,  thank  you.  Have  you  been  trying 
it?" 

"  Certainly  not.  It  is  possible  for  some  men 
to  be  in  good  spirits  without  the  aid  of  wine, 
though  I  doubt,  my  boy,  if  they  could  get  along 
permanently  without  Luther's  two  other  adjuncts," 
and  I  poured  out  the  amber  liquid  with  a  gener- 
ous dash  of  exultation,  and  pretended  not  to  see 
the  puzzled  look  that  he  gave  me. 

"  I  don't  think  you  are  quite  fair  with  me," 
he  said.  "  You  alluded  last  night  to  something 
and  then  strode  off  to  bed  without  an  explanation. 
It  isn't  like  you." 

"  No,  I  was  not  very  candid,  but  I  have  made 
up  my  mind  to  be  perfectly  frank  with  you." 

"  Frank  about  what  ?  You  are  not  going  to 
lecture  me  at  dinner,  are  you  ? " 

"  Certainly  not." 

"  When  I  explain  matters  to  you  and  put  the 
thing  in  the  right  light  —  " 

"  Hold  on,"  I  said,  "  you've  got  it  wrong. 
I'm  going  to  explain  matters  to  you,  and  when 
you  see  them  in  the  right  light,  you  will  agree 
with  me.  You  eat  your  dinner,  and  let  me  talk. 
You  have  noticed,  of  course,  that  I  have  not  given 
you  as  much  of  my  society  lately  as  you  are  en- 
titled to,  and  you  must  have  had  a  suspicion  of 
what  was  going  on.  I  ought  to  have  taken  you 
into  my  confidence  at  the  start,  I  suppose.  But 
in  these  matters  everybody  is  naturally  more  or 

26 


AFFECTION  AS  A  GAY  DECEIVER 

less  selfish.  But  as  the  matter  involves  some- 
thing of  a  change  in  our  establishment  —  " 

Charlie  laid  down  his  knife  and  fork,  and, 
leaning  back,  took  a  long  breath. 

"  By  George,  Governor,  you're  not  thinking 
of—" 

"  Why,  yes,  I  am,  Comrade.  Now  don't  give 
me  that  nonsense  about  my  being  too  old.  I 
never  felt  in  better  feather  in  my  life,  and  a  man 
at  fifty-four  doesn't  enjoy  any  immunity  in  these 
matters.  Hang  me,  if  you  don't  look  as  if  my 
confidence  were  misplaced." 

"  It's  a  little  sudden,  isn't  it  ? " 

"  Well,  I  never  did  linger  much  over  such 
affairs,  and  I  don't  suppose  you  will  when  you 
come  to  face  them." 

"  Do  I  know  the  lady  ?  " 

"  You  may  have  seen  her,  but  you  cannot  know 
her  as  I  do,  until  you  have  acquainted  yourself 
with  her  many  virtues.  Solid  sort  —  fine,  mature 
judgment,  great  refinement  of  taste,  and  a  capital 
manager." 

"  Has  she  got  a  son  abroad  ?  " 

"  Ah,  you  dog,  you  have  got  upon  my  trail." 

"  Coldcream.     Moses  !  " 

"Why  Moses?"   I  asked  with  slight  dignity. 

"  I  don't  know,"  he  answered  helplessly.  "  An- 
cient history,  I  suppose." 

"  Don't  be  disrespectful,  my  boy.  This  is  a 
very  serious  matter  to  me." 

"  I  think,  sir,  it  will  be  equally  serious  to 
me." 

27 


TANGLED  UP  IN  BEULAH  LAND 

"  Ah,  then  we  shall  understand  each  other 
perfectly." 

"  When  did  you  make  up  your  mind  to  this  ?  " 

"  When  did  1  ?  Why,  there  you  have  me. 
One's  mind  is  made  up  by  such  imperceptible 
degrees  in  these  matters,  and  they  are  usually  of 
such  a  nature  that  he  does  not  remark  the 
progress." 

"  Then  it  is  made  up  ?  " 

"  Why,  as  to  that,  I  suppose  I  can  say  it  is. 
The  final  word  has  not  been  spoken  —  I  thought 
I  would  like  to  have  a  little  word  with  you 
before  speaking  it.  Don't  you  think  Madame 
Coldcream  is  an  unusually  fine-looking  woman  ?  " 

"  Oh,  pardon  me,  Dad ;  it  isn't  fair  to  push 
me  to  the  point  of  declaring  that  I  differ  from 
you." 

"  You  must  lay  your  prejudices  aside,  my  boy. 
Madame  Coldcream  has  connections  in  Warwick- 
shire. Her  family  is  one  of  the  oldest  in  the 
kingdom.  Her  son  is  in  the  English  consular 
service.  A  very  fine  fellow,  I  understand,  but 
hampered  a  little  for  want  of  funds  —  was  educated 
at  Leipsic." 

At  this  he  got  up  and  took  a  purposeless  turn 
or  two.  Presently  he  came  up  and  laid  his  hand 
on  my  shoulder  in  the  old  familiar  way. 

"  Say,  Dad,  this  is  so  unexpected,  don't  you 
know,  it  takes  the  wind  out  of  me.  I  suppose 
there's  no  use  of  my  expressing  an  opinion  about 
it,  however  respectfully." 

It  was  as  much  as  I  could  do  to  keep  from 

28 


AFFECTION  AS  A  GAY  DECEIVER 

catching  him  by  both  hands  and  letting  the 
bottom  out  of  my  device  by  one  weak  rebound 
—  he  looked  so  forlorn.  However,  I  kept  up 
my  paternal  recklessness  as  well  as  I  could. 

"  Comrade,"  I  said,  "  I  knew  that  it  would 
strike  you  like  cold  water  at  the  first  dash,  but 
when  you  come  to  see  her  through  my  eyes,  as 
you  are  bound  to  do,  you  will  agree  with  me. 
You  will,  I  am  sure  of  it.  There's  a  picture  of 
her.  Study  the  ample  brow,  and  breadth  of  the 
lower  face." 

And  I  pulled  out  the  photograph.  He  took 
it  mechanically,  and  I,  pouring  out  some  more 
wine,  galloped  on  over  my  home  stretch. 

"  Remark  the  equipoise  of  faculties  —  the 
strength  of  jaw,  and  the  aristocratic  pose  of  the 
head.  Just  the  kind  of  woman  to  keep  a  foolish 
old  chap  like  your  Dad  well  in  hand,  don't  you 
think  ? " 

I  knew  very  well  that  he  was  not  looking  at 
the  photograph  at  all,  but  was  looking  over  it  at 
his  Dad  with  a  melancholy  tenderness,  and  so  I 
did  not  turn  around. 

"  There's  a  quiet  authority  about  that  kind 
of  woman  that  is  worth  its  weight  in  gold  in 
society." 

Then  I  waited  a  moment,  but  he  said  nothing. 
So  I  pushed  back  my  chair,  and,  getting  up,  took 
the  photograph  from  his  hands  and  walked  over 
to  the  grate,  where  I  stood  regarding  it  tenderly 
with  my  back  to  him.  But  there  was  a  mirror 
over  the  mantle,  and  I  could  keep  one  eye  on 

29 


TANGLED  UP  IN  BEULAH  LAND 

him  as  he  stood  there,  leaning  against  the  book- 
shelves, with  his  eyes  on  the  carpet. 

It  was  two  days  after  this  when  I  got  an  answer 
from  the  Doctor  to  my  letter.  It  was  character- 
istically brief  and  pertinent,  and  read  as  follows  : 

TUSK.ALOO,  PA. 

"  MY  DEAR  OLD  FRIEND  :  I  am  out  of  practice, 
and  the  invalid  world  will  have  to  hobble  over 
its  chasms  without  me.  As  to  your  predicament, 
I  foresaw  something  of  it  long  ago,  and  warned 
you  of  it  when  you  kept  coddling  that  boy's 
sensibilities  at  the  expense  of  his  will.  I  should 
not  be  surprised  if  it  were  now  too  late,  and  you 
were  to  find  out  that  it  is  easier  to  lift  yourself 
by  your  own  waistband  than  to  lift  somebody 
else,  when  you  have  taken  such  precious  good 
care  to  deprive  him  of  a  waistband.  I  suppose 
that  some  of  your  chickens  have  respect  enough 
for  the  proverb  to  come  home  to  roost,  and  I 
cannot  for  the  life  of  me  see  what  I  can  do  to 
block  the  wheels  of  Nature's  Juggernaut,  unless 
you  come  down  here  with  the  young  rascal,  where 
you  and  I  can,  perhaps,  throw  ourselves  jointly 
under  the  car.  I  have  been  making  my  final 
cocoon  here,  and  have  wound  myself  about 
pretty  comfortably  with  my  own  silk  for  the  final 
transformation ;  but  if  you  collar  the  ingrate  and 
drag  him  to  my  doorstep,  why,  confound  you, 
there's  a  warm  place  for  both  of  you  in  my  idiotic 
old  heart,  and  mayhap  redemption  in  my  me- 
nage." 

30 


AFFECTION  AS  A  GAY  DECEIVER 

These  racing  metaphors  did  not  then  amuse 
me.  I  thought  only  of  the  generous  nature  that 
defied  them. 

Anything  like  an  intrigue  has  always  been  very 
repugnant  to  me,  and  I  never  was  on  masquerade 
in  my  life.  But,  all  at  once,  I  found  myself  in- 
triguing against  my  own  boy,  and  acting,  at  my 
sister's  suggestion,  a  little  comedy-drama  for  his 
reclamation.  Still,  there  was  no  help  for  it.  Most 
comedy-dramas  have  for  their  purpose  the  out- 
witting of  the  intrigante,  and  mine  was  no  excep- 
tion. Who  she  was,  or  what  she  was,  or  what 
she  looked  like,  I  had  not  the  faintest  notion 
other  than  my  bedizened  fears  had  portrayed  her. 
It  was  a  fight  carried  on  in  the  dark  so  far  as  the 
antagonists  were  concerned,  because  I  shrank  a 
little  from  the  light.  It  had  never  occurred  to 
Charlie,  poor  fellow,  while  he  was  running  his 
head  into  some  kind  of  a  silken  noose,  that  his 
old  Dad  could  encounter  the  same  fate.  "  It  began 
to  dawn  upon  his  mind  that  his  old  Dad  was, 
after  all,  an  important,  if  not  an  inestimable,  factor 
in  his  future  arrangements,  and  not  to  be  carried 
off,  if  he  could  help  it,  by  some  alien.  I  flattered 
myself  that  I  had  awakened  in  him  something  of 
my  sense  of  loss  in  having  any  marrying  going 
on  in  our  small  family. 

To  me,  at  least,  the  situation  must  have  had 
a  humorous,  almost  a  farcical,  aspect,  but  I  was 
playing  a  high,  conservative  game,  and  did  not  at 
the  time  consider  the  absurdity  of  father  and  son 
doing  their  best  to  keep  each  other  from  reaping 


TANGLED  UP  IN  BEULAH  LAND 

the  benefit  of  their  folly.  The  only  person  alive 
who  had  the  full  advantage  of  whatever  humour 
there  was  in  it  was  my  half-sister,  Petunia,  to 
whom  my  alarmed  scion  rushed,  just  as  I  had 
done,  when  he  awoke  to  the  fact  that  a  mature 
siren  was  after  his  Dad,  scrip  and  scrippage. 

Petunia,  that  most  admirable  social  manager, 
preserved  a  family  discretion,  and  exercised  a 
most  tactful  wisdom. 

"  Your  idol  has  been  to  see  me,"  she  said,  a 
day  or  two  later,  "  and  he  wore  an  encouraging 
suggestion  of  being  shattered." 

"  Poor  Charlie  !  "  I  murmured. 

"  I  suppose  you  are  ready  to  patch  him  up  in 
any  way  he  desires  ?  " 

"  Dear  boy,  it's  his  first  pang." 

"  First  rubbish.  Do  compose  yourself,  and 
don't  begin  your  quivering." 

"  I  suppose  he  felt  the  folow  keenly.  What 
did  he  say  ?  " 

"  He  announced  to  me,  with  an  almost  super- 
human air  of  distress,  that  you  thought  of  taking 
a  wife.  I  congratulated  him. 

"  c  But,  my  dear  aunt,'  he  said, ( you  don't  know 
who  it  is.  It's  Coldcream.' 

"'So  I  have  heard,'  I  replied.  (A  most  excel- 
lent choice — a  woman  of  shrewd  business  capacity. 
She  only  needs  an  income  to  be  able  to  exercise 
a  real  talent  for  managing.  I  cannot  imagine  a 
better  supervising  partner  for  my  brother.' 

" l  Then  you  seriously  approve  of  it  ? '  he  asked 
me  with  blank  surprise. 

32 


AFFECTION   AS   A    GAY   DECEIVER 

•"Undoubtedly.1 

" f  But  you  do  not  consider  me.' 

" c  Consider  you  ? '  I  said.  '  You  could  not  let 
your  selfishness  interfere  with  your  father's  hap- 
piness. You  are  young,  and  have  your  own  path 
to  make.  It  does  not  become  you,  Charles,'  I 
observed,  '  to  be  thinking  only  of  yourself.' 

" f  I  am  not,  I  assure  you,'  said  the  young 
hypocrite.  f  I  am  thinking  of  him.  A  man  at 
his  age,  with  responsibilities,  is  as  liable  to  make 
mistakes,  I  suppose,  as  a  young  man.  You  must 
remember,  Aunt,  that  we  are  very  much  attached 
to  each  other.' ' 

"  He  said  that,  did  he  ?  " 

"  Yes,  but  I  did  not  tell  him  that  it  was  just 
what  you  had  said." 

"  No.     That  was  not  necessary." 

"  I  reminded  him  that  true  affection  is  largely 
made  up  of  self-sacrifice;  that  he  would  be  get- 
ting married  himself  presently,  and  would  prob- 
ably take  a  woman  who  supported  herself  by  her 
own  talents,  and  who  would  not  need  your 
assistance." 

"  Do  you  think  it  was  necessary  to  go  as  far 
as  that  ? " 

"  Yes,  I  certainly  do,  and  when  I  went  that  far 
he  acted  exactly  as  you  did.  He  buttoned  up 
his  coat,  took  the  middle  of  the  floor,  tried  to 
look  as  if  he  wanted  to  hate  me,  and  then  col- 
lapsed. I  didn't  tell  him  that  you  were  a  pair, 
but  you  are." 

"He  certainly  takes  after  me  in  some  respects." 

33 


TANGLED  UP  IN  BEULAH  LAND 

"  Not  in  looks,  Rufus." 

"  You  think  not  ?  " 

"Oh,  he  is  like  his  mother  —  the  handsome 
young  cub.  I  wanted  to  get  up  and  give  him  a 
good  shaking  as  he  stood  there,  but  I  had  my 
laces  on,  and  couldn't  afford  to  rumple  my 
authority." 

"  Did  you  ascertain  definitely  just  how  far  his 
passing  infatuation  has  gone  ? "  I  asked  this 
rather  timidly,  fearing  that  she  might  tell  me. 

"  Head  over  heels,  Rufus.  It's  what  your 
friend  the  Major  calls  just  the  ordinary  madness 
of  youth  —  but  fatal." 

"  Bless  my  soul,  Petunia,  you  speak  as  if  it 
were  a  hopeless  case." 

"  Precisely.  That's  exactly  the  way  I  spoke  to 
him  about  you,  and  he  went  off  in  the  same  way 
and  asked  me  if  it  were  a  hopeless  case.  I  told 
him  it  was,  unless  he  got  you  away  immediately. 
Rufus,  you  will  have  to  get  each  other  away  as 
quickly  as  possible,  if  only  for  my  sake." 

And  Petunia  held  her  jewelled  hand  over  her 
mouth,  as  if  to  suppress  an  unseemly  impulse  of 
humour. 

"  But  the  rascal  will  not  go  until  the  season  is 
over,"  I  said,  "  and  everything  else  may  be  over 
by  that  time." 

"  Oh,  to  save  you,  I  think  he  will  consent  to 
wrench  himself  a  little.  By  the  way,  he  expressed 
the  same  doubt  about  your  consenting  to  go. 
You  see  you  will  both  have  to  consent  for  each 
other's  sakes.  It's  getting  intricate,  isn't  it?  If 

34 


AFFECTION  AS  A  GAY  DECEIVER 

you  should  both  go,  it  will  be  interesting  to  see 
which  protects  the  other  the  best." 

"You  gave  him  some  advice,  did  you  not?  " 

"  How  could  I  help  it.  The  handsome  young 
profligate  appealed  to  my  woman's  sensibilities  in 
spite  of  myself." 

"  Excuse  me,  Petunia,  c  profligate  '  is  rather  an 
unnecessarily  harsh  word  to  apply  to  that  boy." 

"  He  looked  so  crestfallen  at  the  prospect  of 
the  Coldcream  gobbling  all  the  resources  —  you 
don't  object  to  f  gobbling,'  do  you  ?  it  is  such  a 
comprehensive  vulgarism  —  that  I  had  to  treat  him 
confidentially,  just  as  I  do  you." 

"  Heavens,  Petunia,  you  did  not  betray  to  him 
that  my  idea  of  marrying  was  a  mere  ruse  ?  " 

"  Not  exactly.  I  said  to  him,  £  Young  man, 
these  are  difficult  cases  to  handle.  Men  of  your 
father's  age  are  unreasonably  susceptible.  The 
only  thing  to  do  is  to  get  him  away  from  the 
illusions  that  affect  the  mature  eye.' ' 

"  What  did  the  boy  say  ?  " 

"  He  walked  about  a  bit,  tugged  at  his  mus- 
tache, and  said,  c  Confound  it,  he  wanted  to  go 
to  Europe  the  other  day,  and  I  opposed  it.  Now 
he's  got  over  it/  ' 

" f  Yes,'  I  remarked,  f  the  Coldcream  probably 
talked  him  out  of  it,  because  she  isn't  ready  to  go 
herself.  You  know  she  has  had  a  project  for 
years  of  going  to  the  Holy  Land  to  live  perma- 
nently, on  account  of  the  sweet  oil  there.  Her 
brother  is  consul  at  Beirut/  '  How  terrible ! ' 
remarked  your  innocent." 

35 


TANGLED  UP  IN  BEULAH  LAND 

"  Petunia,"  I  said,  "  I  have  received  an  invita- 
tion from  my  old  friend  and  adviser,  the  Doctor, 
to  bring  the  boy  down  there.  If  I  could  get  him 
away  and  under  new  influences,  I  feel  that  it 
would  be  advantageous." 

"  It  will  never  work.  You  must  let  him  get 
you  away,"  replied  Petunia.  "  You  do  not  seem 
to  see  that  it  is  most  important  that  he  should 
save  you.  These  young  fellows  shy  at  the  first 
intimation  of  being  saved  themselves." 

That  evening  I  came  home  rather  late  and 
suddenly.  Charlie  was  there  waiting  for  me.  He 
had  not  been  out.  I  fondly  fancied  that  there 
was  a  slight  shade  of  anxiety  in  his  face,  that 
Meredith  could  not  quite  dispel. 

"  What's  the  matter,  Dad  ?  "  he  asked.  "  You 
appear  to  be  worried." 

"  Yes,"  I  said.  "  Deuce  take  it,  I  received  a 
letter  from  the  Doctor,  asking  me  to  come  down 
to  his  place  in  Pennsylvania,  and  spend  a  month 
—  you  remember  the  Doctor  ?  " 

"  Of  course  I  do  —  a  grand  old  man.  Why 
don't  you  go  ?  " 

"  I  should  like  to,  but,  to  tell  the  truth,  it  will 
interfere  with  some  other  private  arrangements  of 
mine  just  now.  It's  too  bad,  too,  for  nothing 
would  please  me  better,  and  he  expects  me.  Do 
you  think  this  white  tie  becomes  me  as  well  as 
those  black  ones  ? " 

"  I  shouldn't  think  you  would  let  such  an 
opportunity  slip." 

"  Well,  Comrade,  I  suppose  I'm   getting  too 

36 


AFFECTION   AS   A   GAY   DECEIVER 

old  or  too  indolent  to  travel  alone.  That  barber 
has  cut  my  hair  in  a  new  style  —  he  says  it  makes 
me  look  five  years  younger."  Then  I  strode 
over  to  the  mirror  to  admire  myself. 

Charlie  laughed  ironically.  "  I  hope,"  he  said, 
"  that  I  shall  be  as  chipper  at  your  age  as  you 
are,  and  as  ready  to  go  off  at  a  tangent." 

"  Why  can't  you  run  down  there  and  explain 
matters  ?  "  I  said.  "  I  might  join  you  for  a  few 
days,  later,  though  I  suppose  if  the  Doctor  got 
me  there  he  would  not  let  me  get  away." 

"  Let  me  see  the  letter,  Dad." 

This  unexpected  shot  converted  me  into  a 
gay  deceiver  literally.  I  began  feeling  in  my 
pocket  for  it,  saying,  "  What  the  deuce  did  I  do 
with  that  letter  ?  "  But,  of  course,  having  care- 
fully burnt  it  up,  I  did  not  find  it. 

"  It  is  one  of  his  brief  and  imperative  notes," 
I  said.  "  I'll  have  to  write  him  and  beg  off." 

"  Why,  it  was  only  a  day  or  two  ago  that  you 
wanted  to  run  away  somewhere,  and  now  you 
funk  at  the  first  opportunity." 

"  Yes,"  I  said,  "  but  it  will  interfere  with  some- 
thing else  now.  You  don't  want  me  to  go,  do 
you  ? " 

"Yes — if  it  will  interfere  with  something  else." 

This  was  candour  with  a  vengeance,  but  I  was 
too  old  to  be  caught  off  my  guard  by  such  a  left- 
hander. We  sat  down  and  pretended  to  waive 
the  whole  matter.  "  By  the  way,"  I  said,  "  have 
we  got  a  Baedeker  among  our  books  ? " 

"  Yes,"  he  said,  "  there  is  an  old  one." 

37 


TANGLED  UP  IN  BEULAH  LAND 

"  Give  it  to  me,  please." 

He  handed  me  the  guide-book,  and  I  settled 
myself  to  study  it  with  an  air  of  great  interest. 
He  could  not  stand  more  than  five  minutes  of 
this  ;  then  he  said  :  — 

"  Well,  Dad,  you're  not  good  company  to- 
night. I'm  going  to  leave  you." 

"  All  right,  my  boy,"  I  replied,  keeping  my 
eye  on  the  page.  "  You  run  along.  I'll  leave 
the  gas  burning  for  you." 

He  put  on  his  coat.  I  was  a  little  afraid  he 
would  take  me  at  my  word,  but  he  stood  a  mo- 
ment, and  then  said  :  — 

"It  seems  to  me  you  are  not  quite  as  frank 
with  me  as  you  ought  to  be." 

I  looked  at  him  over  the  page  as  I  replied :  "  I 
do  not  see  what  could  put  that  in  your  head. 
I  wish  to  satisfy  myself  about  some  details  in  this 
book  that  I  didn't  wish  to  bore  you  with  —  " 

"You  are  not  disposed  to  make  a  visit  to  the 
Doctor,  and  at  the  same  time  you  are  studying 
the  European  routes.  Is  that  quite  candid  ?  " 

"  My  dear  fellow,  I  am  not  going  down  to  the 
Doctor's  alone.  There  is  no  pleasure  in  that." 

"  But  you  think  of  going  abroad  in  company 
on  account  of  the  pleasure.  It  seems  to  me  that 
there  might  be  a  duty  in  not  going." 

I  laid  the  book  down  as  I  said,  "  I  hadn't 
thought  of  the  matter  in  the  light  of  a  duty  — 
duty  to  whom  ?  " 

"  Well,  to  me,  Dad.  I  think  you  owe  it  to  me  to 
take  a  reasonable  care  of  your  health  and  go  slow." 

38 


AFFECTION  AS  A  GAY  DECEIVER 

"  Go  slow  ?  What  do  you  mean  ?  There  is 
no  danger  of  my  changing  my  habits.  They  are 
pretty  well  fixed." 

"  How  about  your  tastes  ?  " 

"  They  were  always  quite  liberal.  There  never 
was  a  time  when  I  could  not  admire  the  sterling 
qualities  of  a  thoroughbred  woman.  That  is  one 
of  the  tastes  that  improve  with  age." 

"  Do  you  know  what  I  think  ?  "  he  said.  "  You 
need  a  change." 

"  Yes,"  I  replied,  "  I  have  felt  it  for  some  time. 
I  was  going  to  speak  to  you  about  it." 

"  We  shall  not  agree  about  the  nature  of  the 
change.  You  need  toning  up  by  a  vigorous  mas- 
culine nature  of  your  own  kind  —  a  man  of  large 
views,  who  understands  you.  You  will  pardon 
me,  Dad,  but  you  —  well,  the  fact  is,  you  under- 
stand me  —  this  kind  of  life  is  apt  to  make  you  — 
well,  just  a  little  eccentric.  You  really  ought  to 
consult  your  old  friend,  the  Doctor.  If  I  have 
not  the  right  to  feel  concerned  about  you,  nobody 
has.  Didn't  he  save  your  life  once  ? " 

"Yes,  he  did.  But  you  do  not  think  there  is 
any  need  of  his  services  to  save  it  now,  I  hope.  I 
never  was  in  better  condition  in  my  life." 

"  Physically,  yes.  But  the  mind  will  get  stag- 
nant or  capricious  in  one  rut.  You  have  changed, 
Dad,  of  late ;  there's  no  use  in  my  denying  it." 

"  No ;  look  here,  Comrade,  you  don't  mean  to 
insinuate  that  I  am  failing,  do  you  ? " 

"  I  hope  not,"  said  my  young  Guardian,  rather 
pathetically.  "  Why  don't  you  ask  your  sister  or 

39 


TANGLED    UP   IN    BEULAH    LAND 

the  Doctor  ?  I've  heard  you  say  more  than  once 
that  a  man  cannot  do  at  fifty-five  what  he  did  at 
twenty-five." 

"  Fifty-four,  Comrade,"  I  remarked.  "  Try 
and  be  accurate." 

"  I  don't  think  it's  fair  to  push  me  into  the 
attitude  of  a  mentor.  I  have  always  looked  to 
you  for  discretion  and  sobriety." 

"  Egad,  that's  fine,"  I  said.  "  Shows  how  you 
differ  from  the  young  men  of  the  time,  and  have 
absorbed  my  teachings.  Go  on ;  do  you  know, 
I  rather  like  it." 

"  Oh,  I  can't  advise  you,  Dad.  But  I  am  sure 
your  old  friend  could.  He  would  tell  you  that 
you  need  a  change  —  perhaps  he  can  furnish  it. 
Your  mind  is  too  active  to  accept  a  petty  round 
like  this  permanently.  It  disturbs  the  healthy 
activities.  I  am  using  your  own  words,  sir.  Why, 
you  have  bought  six  neckties  in  two  days.  How 
is  that  for  fifty-four  —  to  be  accurate  ?  " 

"  In  a  sense,  perhaps,  you  are  right,"  I  said. 
"  We  have  been  thinking  too  much  of  ourselves. 
That's  the  very  thing  I  want  to  correct." 

"  It  sounds  rather  harsh,"  he  replied,  "  to  be 
told  that  I  must  think  of  somebody  besides  you. 
I  have  not  been  accustomed  to  it." 

I  had  to  hold  myself  down  by  the  arms  of  the 
chair.  To  give  way  now  to  a  natural  impulse  would 
ruin  all.  Besides,  these  young  rascals  have  a  way 
of  working  your  sensibilities  to  their  own  ends  that 
cannot  be  relied  upon.  He  was  watching  me  to 
see  if  a  weak  spot  appeared.  Presently  he  said:  — 

40 


AFFECTION   AS   A   GAY   DECEIVER 

"  You  want  new  faces  and  new  environment 
with  some  of  the  old  and  best  influences.  Why 
not  cut  everything  and  take  a  new  dash  ?  I'm 
not  thinking  of  myself,  though  I  should  really 
like  to  see  the  Doctor." 

"  But  I  couldn't  think  of  dragging  you  away 
when  the  city  is  at  its  best." 

"  Yes,  I  know,  but  consider  the  joy  it  would 
give  me  to  drag  you  away." 

I  threw  the  Baedeker  on  the  table.  "  Con- 
found you,"  I  said,  "  I  suppose  you  will  have 
your  own  way.  You  always  do." 

"  When  will  you  go  ?  " 

"  There's  no  hurry,  is  there  ?  " 

"Oh,  yes,  there  is.  If  we  mean  it,  let's  have 
at  it  before  somebody  changes  your  mind." 

As  I  fell  into  a  condition  of  helpless  acquies- 
cence, I  could  see  that  there  was  a  sly  look  of 
triumph  in  his  face  as  he  took  off  his  coat  again 
and  bustled  around  the  room.  Perhaps  there 
was  a  similar  look  in  my  face,  as  I  thought  I  had 
got  him  back  into  leading-strings,  like  the  little 
fellow  I  had  so  often  cajoled  before,  and  I  said 
musingly  to  myself,  with  Mother  Goose's  irony, 
as  I  watched  him  :  — 

Goosey,  goosey  gander, 

O  whither  would  you  wander  ? 

But  I  dare  say  he  was  equally  self-congratula- 
tory, and  was  saying  to  himself,  "  I'll  spike  Cold- 
cream's  gun,  confound  her  !  " 


CHAPTER    III 

WHERE    IS    TUSKALOO  ? 

I^?s^T  was  a  nasty  May  day  when  we 
<^&  locked  our  rooms  and  saw  our 
(^o§\  traps  loaded  on  an  express  wagon. 
6g|K  A  sharp,  wet  wind  was  blowing 
*~fi\  from  the  northeast,  bringing  flur- 
^>crs  ries  of  aggravating  crystals  and 
boring  into  one's  marrow  acutely.  It  required 
considerable  moral  determination  on  my  part  to 
abandon  my  comfortable  quarters  and  my  easy 
habits  and  go  blindly  forth  on  such  an  uncertain 
chase  as  this  in  the  teeth  of  an  acrid  spring. 

Neither  of  us  had  a  very  definite  idea  of  where 
we  were  going  or  what  it  was  we  were  to  accom- 
plish by  going.  But  I  am  quite  sure  that  each 
of  us  held  stoutly  to  the  vague  notion  that  it  was 
a  stern  duty  to  get  the  other  away. 

I  must  say  that  Charlie  kept  up  the  appearance 
of  bravery  at  the  start  much  better  than  I  did. 

42 


WHERE   IS   TUSKALOO? 

He  fussed  about  with  what  looked  like  resolute 
energy,  as  if  he  were  a  little  afraid  I  would  change 
my  mind  if  he  did  not  get  me  started  immediately. 
But  what  does  a  fellow  of  his  age  know  or  care 
about  weather  or  definite  destination  ?  I  was 
glad  to  get  into  our  comfortable  section  on  the 
train,  for  the  city  we  were  leaving  was  about  as 
woebegone  under  the  spring  infliction  as  I  had 
ever  seen  it  —  business  trying  to  execute  itself 
under  futile  umbrellas,  plunging  about  in  sticky 
and  slimy  streets  ;  leaden  skies  hanging  low  and 
emitting  wintry  blasts  fitfully. 

I  could  see  the  look  of  relief  on  the  young 
rascal's  face  as  we  took  possession  of  our  com- 
partment. He  was  saying  to  himself,  "  I've  got 
him  landed  anyway,  and  now  if  his  old  friend 
the  Doctor  does  not  keep  him  out  of  mischief, 
when  he  understands  the  case,  then  I  deserve  to 
have  Madame  Coldcream  for  a  keeper." 

I  forgave  him  easily  because  I  could  not  bring 
myself  to  believe  that  he  was  reading  me  as  well. 
He  must  have  been  joyously  ignorant  of  the 
fact  that  I  was  saying  to  myself,  "  I've  got  the 
scapegrace  started,  and  if  he  gets  away  from  my 
friend  the  Doctor,  when  the  Doctor  understands 
the  case,  then  I  deserve  to  have  a  dancing 
soubrette,  or  whatever  the  thing  may  be,  for  a 
daughter." 

Just  exactly  into  what  kind  of  a  country  we 
were  plunging  by  the  aid  of  our  self-sacrifice 
neither  of  us  knew.  Tuskaloo  might  as  well 
have  been  in  Thibet  or  hid  away  in  the  Carnac 

43 


TANGLED  UP  IN  BEULAH  LAND 

Alps,  as  far  as  our  knowledge  extended.  The 
Doctor  had  on  one  occasion  referred  to  the  do- 
main that  had  swallowed  him  up  as  "  Beulah 
Land."  Whether  this  was  his  affectionate  way 
of  labelling  things  that  took  his  eye  or  was  so 
set  down  in  the  surveys,  I  had  not  the  faintest 
idea.  If  Charlie  had  asked  me  as  we  sat  there, 
what  kind  of  a  place  Pennsylvania  is,  I  presume 
I  should  have  answered  in  a  large  and  compre- 
hensive way,  that  Pennsylvania  is  the  Keystone 
state,  crossed  diagonally  by  the  Appalachian 
chain,  with  three  great  terraces  respectively  in- 
habited by  Moravians,  Scotchmen,  Quakers,  and 
rattlesnakes,  and  beautifully  traversed  by  thin 
and  noble  rivers.  Perhaps  I  might  have  ex- 
pressed the  conviction  that  Pennsylvania  is  a 
barbaric  domain  that  is  always  committing  a  sort 
of  commercial  hara-kari  and  disembowelling  itself 
of  coal  and  iron  and  other  intestinal  products  for 
the  benefit  of  mankind  and  the  much  smudging 
of  itself. 

But  Charlie  had  not  the  slightest  curiosity 
about  the  matter.  He  settled  himself  comfort- 
ably over  a  novel,  and  had  evidently  made  up 
his  mind  not  to  look  out  of  the  car  window  or 
in  any  manner  interest  himself  in  our  destination. 
He  would  be  satisfied  to  get  there  and  see  me 
safely  entangled  in  an  old  friend's  hospitality. 
Then  he  would  find  some  excuse  to  hurry  back 
to  New  York  and  have  the  full  swing  of  our 
rooms. 

Before   we   reached    Harrisburg,    he    had    the 

44 


WHERE   IS   TUSKALOO? 

car  window  open  and  had  relinquished  his  novel, 
for  the  spring,  full-blossomed,  was  coming  up  that 
way.  He  noticed  that  the  sunshine  was  quite 
yellow,  the  air  was  heavy  with  the  scent  of  lilacs, 
and  the  glades  were  already  purple  with  the 
hepatica. 

The  traveller  leaves  behind  him  at  Harrisburg 
most  of  those  familiar  reminders  of  a  common 
country  and  thereafter  slips  easily  into  what  is 
distinctively  Pennsylvania.  But  if  he  is  unbur- 
dened, as  we  were,  by  personal  or  commercial  pre- 
dilections, he  accepts  the  new  conditions  as  he 
penetrates  them,  with  a  comfortable  wonder  and  a 
calm  zest,  and  thinks  of  them  as  belonging  not 
so  much  to  Pennsylvania  as  to  a  pleasing  picture 
that  defies  locality.  As  he  reaches  the  Juniata 
and  turns  north  to  MifHintown,  a  new  and  serene 
pastoral  world  welcomes  him  with  pleasant  out- 
stretch. It  remains  to  all  such  persons  as  come 
that  way  for  the  first  time,  to  discover  the  Juniata 
for  themselves,  and  to  wonder,  as  so  many  English- 
men have  done,  why  they  have  not  heard  more 
about  it.  But  it  is  when  the  vagrant  traveller 
takes  the  great  bend  southward  again  at  Mifflin- 
town,  in  obedience  to  the  graceful  sweep  of  this 
river,  and  spins  along  between  the  Black  Log  and 
the  Jacks  ranges,  half  the  length  of  Mifflin  County, 
in  a  vale  beside  which  Tempe  was  rude  and  gaunt, 
that  he  feels  himself  rather  voluptuously  entering 
Beulah  Land.  He  may  at  some  time  have  called 
Maine  and  New  Hampshire  and  the  Berkshire 
hills  the  Switzerland  of  America  in  succession. 

45 


TANGLED  UP  IN  BEULAH  LAND 

We  all  do.  But  when  he  reaches  this  spot,  he 
is  very  apt  to  give  over  all  that  nonsense  and 
call  this  the  America  of  America,  as  if  it  were  the 
heart  of  it,  and  wearing  upon  its  plateaus  and 
meadowy  pleasances,  and  waving  in  its  gonfalon 
surprises,  high  up  the  timber  line,  a  constant 
suggestion  of  calm,  beauty,  and  remoteness.  The 
railway  has  pierced  its  secret  with  iron,  but  it  could 
not  destroy  it.  The  charm  that  hangs  heavy  on 
its  gladdening  pictures  is  like  a  Sabbath-yesterday  ; 
and  whether  the  scenes  are  English  or  Scotch, 
whether  they  are  like  Lombardy  or  Brittany, 
and  they  are  like  all  of  these  in  succession,  they 
preserve  for  us  the  picturesqueness  of  Nature  and 
the  thrift  of  a  happy  and  contented  people  in  such 
combination  as  one  will  find  nowhere  else.  And 
always  it  is  the  beautiful  river  that  does  the  chief 
beguiling.  It  is  so  flush  and  exultant  and  joy- 
ously companionable,  growing  under  your  eye 
more  voluble  and  capricious  as  it  narrows  towards 
its  source  in  the  mountains ;  springing  upon  one 
unexpected  tours  de  force  of  shadowy  pools  and 
silver  reaches  ;  little  enchanted  islands,  fantasti- 
cally embowered,  scurrying  past ;  and  fringed  mar- 
gins of  poplar  and  larch  leaping  into  masterpieces 
as  the  eye  grasps  after  them.  Other  rivers  lend 
their  presence  to  man  soberly  on  his  journeyings. 
This  little  river  accompanies  him  like  a  true 
artist  and  forever  thrums,  now  softly  and  now 
wildly,  on  the  lyre  of  God. 

Somewhere,  far  down  this  legendary  vale,  lying 
in    the    silences,    is    Tuskaloo.      One  does    not 

46 


WHERE   IS   TUSKALOO? 

stumble  over  it  as  if  it  were  an  advertisement. 
One  has  to  hunt  for  it  as  if  it  were  a  sentiment. 
It  is  encompassed  by  what  remains  of  the  grandi- 
ose American  forest — that  stupendous  coverlet 
that  once  spread  over  this  state  and  canopied 
Kentucky  and  Tennessee  on  the  other  side  of  the 
great  range  ;  out  of  whose  trackless  glooms  the 
Indian  peered  in  war  paint,  and  under  whose 
endless  apse  civilization  had  to  hew  its  way  when 
it  went  up  to  possess  the  land. 

Some  insistent  commonplaces  of  travel  may 
have  fretted  us  as  we  neared  our  destination,  but 
I  have  forgotten  them.  There  was  of  course 
the  regular  railway  station.  I  believe  there  were 
heads  of  through  passengers  thrust  out  of  the 
train  to  see  if  possible  why  anybody  should  get 
off  there,  and  then  the  train  left  us  to  the  mercy 
of  a  lumbering  stage-coach  that  swallowed  up  our 
traps  and  invited  us  to  be  swallowed  up  ourselves 
as  it  cried  aloud,  "  All  aboard  for  Tuskaloo." 

Charlie  bravely  kept  up  an  appearance  of  in- 
terest and  inspected  the  homespun  and  tow- 
frocked  inhabitants,  and  remarked  to  me  that  it 
was  Arden  peopled  only  with  Audreys,  to  which 
I  replied :  "  Yes,  my  Boy,  I  know,  I  know. 
But  we  are  doing  the4  Midsummer  Night's  Dream.' 
Let  us  keep  our  repertory  straight." 

To  be  rolled  away  over  cushiony  roads,  already 
padded  with  grass  and  moss,  our  vehicle  giving 
back  no  other  sound  than  the  stretching  and 
flapping  of  its  leathers,  and  to  be  brushed  by 
blossomy  boughs  and  to  sniff  the  arbutus  that 

47 


TANGLED  UP  IN  BEULAH  LAND 

our  wheels  crushed  ;  always  confronting  that  little 
river  at  unexpected  moments,  to  hear  it  cry  out 
liquidly,  "Here  I  am  again,"  —  all  this  was  to 
slip  submissively  enough  out  of  accustomed  life 
into  Tuskaloo,  which  was  something  slumberously 
incredible  to  men  so  lately  escaping  from  the 
thousand  fangs  of  sound. 

It  gave  me  a  Rip  Van  Winkle-ish  feeling  to 
be  set  down  in  front  of  an  old  tavern  with  a 
swinging  sign  on  the  green  in  front,  and,  as  I 
live,  indubitable  evidences  that  human  beings 
played  bowls  there  —  probably  in  the  twilight. 

It  was  difficult  to  restrain  one's  archaic  inclina- 
tions when  thus  plumped,  as  one  might  say, 
into  the  eighteenth  century.  I  came  perilously 
near  to  saluting  the  tavern-keeper  as  mine  host 
and  swearing  he  was  rubicund,  which  he  was  not, 
and  ordering  a  flagon  of  wine  to  begin  with. 
Airs  of  Provence  or  of  Arcady  blew  his  scraggly 
white  locks  about,  and  he  wanted  to  know  if 
"  you  be  the  gents  Boylston's  got  to  fetch." 

Boylston !  Fifty  years  came  trooping  back 
with  that  word.  It  had  touched  me  long  ago 
when  I  went  to  singing-school  in  the  basement 
of  the  old  stone  church. 

"  I  guess,"  said  Charlie, "  we  shall  have  to  foot 
it.  How  far  is  it  to  the  Doctor's  ?  " 

"  Goin'  on  two  mile  or  thereabout.  I  reckon 
his  team  may  hev  got  stuck,"  said  the  tavern- 
keeper.  "  Will  yer  step  in  and  hev  suthin'? " 

We  thanked  him  decorously,  as  if  we  owed  him 
some  kind  of  apology  for  breaking  into  his  coun- 

48 


WHERE    IS   TUSKALOO? 

try,  and  Charlie,  who  was  an  object  of  interest  to 
several  red-faced  girls  behind  the  adjacent  blinds, 
whose  "  te-he's "  escaped  through  the  openings, 
remarked  that  it  seemed  to  be  a  nice,  quiet,  agri- 
cultural country. 

He  was  probably  thinking  of  the  girls  in  flesh- 
ings that  he  had  left  behind,  and  I  merely  said :  — 

"  Yes,  we  shall  miss  the  influence  of  those  dis- 
creet women  of  the  world  who  lend  such  a  charm 
to  real  life,  not  alone  by  their  graces,  but  by  their 
wisdom." 

He  turned  away  with  a  little  jerk  as  he  said 
rather  testily,  "  Oh,  we  didn't  come  down  here, 
Dad,  for  that  sort  of  thing." 

"  Certainly  not,"  I  replied.  "  So  we'll  just 
take  a  lung  full  of  it  and  scurry  back  among  our 
kind." 

"  I  shouldn't  think,"  he  observed,  "  a  man  of 
your  age  would  want  to  do  so  much  scurrying. 
Now  that  you  are  here,  you'd  better  make  up 
your  mind  to  stay  awhile." 

"  You  shall  have  it  your  own  way,  my  boy, 
but  I'll  be  hanged  if  I'll  stay  here  alone." 

Before  we  could  exchange  any  further  condo- 
lences, a  stout,  handsome  equipage,  drawn  by  a 
pair  of  high-stepping  bays,  came  up,  carrying 
Boylston  on  the  front  seat  as  easily  as  the  Doctor 
had  carried  Union  Pacific  when  it  broke  five 
points. 

Boylston  touched  his  hat  and  pointed  with  his 
whip.  He  evidently  wasted  no  words  on  the  ob- 
vious. It  was  late  in  the  afternoon  when  we  were 

49 


TANGLED  UP  IN  BEULAH  LAND 

once  more  rolling  toward  the  Doctor's  —  this 
time  at  a  gallant  pace.  Everything  glistened  and 
flashed,  and  the  sweeping  boughs  now  and  then 
sprinkled  us  with  iridescent  drops. 

"  Sun-shower  half  an  hour  ago,"  said  Boylston, 
and  then  relapsed  into  the  general  jingle  of  our 
ongoing. 

We  saw  the  drifting  pigments  of  the  shower 
scumbled  in  the  west,  in  the  gaps  of  the  moun- 
tains, as  we  came  out  of  the  woods,  roiled  lakes 
of  fire  and  blood  and  gold,  with  the  evening  shad- 
ows creeping  upon  them,  but  still  throwing  great 
shafts  of  colour  over  the  vistas,  so  that  the  meadows 
were  molten  and  the  jutting  crags  were  rimmed 
with  crimson.  And  still  the  little  brimming  river, 
flashing  in  and  out  upon  us  with  its  deepening 
darks,  like  Nature's  own  corybant. 

Just  this  dash  through  glades  and  groves, 
smitten  now  by  the  damp,  odorous  breath  of  a 
bottom,  pink  with  the  azaleas  and  wild  rose,  and 
spicy  with  the  tender  birch  and  sassafras,  —  and 
now  coming  head  on  into  the  full  blazonry  of  the 
dying  day,  flying  as  if  pursued  by  the  scented 
evening,  —  and  then,  turning  in  at  the  gravelled 
walks  of  a  park  and  coming  all  at  once  abreast  of 
a  large  colonial  house  peering  through  the  trees, 
on  the  broad  veranda  of  which  was  grouped  the 
last  tableau  into  which  our  panorama  had  resolved 
itself,  with  finishing  magic. 

Years  had  whitened  but  not  denuded  the  Jovian 
head  of  the  Doctor.  Indeed,  the  frost  of  time 
was  more  like  the  jolly  frost  of  a  wedding  cake 

5° 


WHERE   IS   TUSKALOO? 

that  is  made  to  keep,  and  his  ruddy,  frank  face  ac- 
cepted the  snow  as  a  good  picture  of  Ajax  grown 
old  will  accept  a  new  mat.  Still  as  erect  and 
hearty  at  seventy  as  that  Mingo  chief  whose  hunt- 
ing lodge  was  once  on  this  very  spot,  he  held  out 
his  arms  to  us,  laid  his  trip-hammer  hand  on  Char- 
lie's shoulder  as  if  he  expected  him  to  bend  a 
little  in  the  knees,  —  which  a  father's  pride 
may  be  pardoned  for  saying,  parenthetically,  he 
didn't,  —  and,  turning  him  round  as  a  recruiting 
sergeant  might  have  done,  said,  in  well-remembered 
tones:  — 

"  Great  Scott,  and  you  are  the  young  rascal  I 
used  to  carry  on  my  shoulder !  lo,  my  dear,  I 
present  to  you  an  old  friend  in  our  young  guest. 
Polly,  attention,  eyes  front !  This  is  a  serious 
business.  Polly  is  my  niece.  .Take  him  away, 
girls.  He  is  reeking  with  city.  Have  him  fumi- 
gated, and  put  him  in  the  haunted  chamber." 

lo  and  Polly  were  not  to  be  driven  out  of  their 
proper  reserve  by  this  gustiness,  and  Charlie,  I 
observed,  did  not  come  to  this  part  of  the  tableau 
so  stoutly.  I  think  the  sudden  apparition  of  un- 
expected loveliness  rather  took  his  breath  away. 
However,  I  can  only  judge  of  the  matter  by  my- 
self. Some  kind  of  a  notion  floated  through  my 
head  swiftly  enough  that  the  Doctor  had  offered 
a  prize  for  the  handsomest  girls  in  Mifflin  County 
in  order  to  strike  us  dumb,  which  notion  was  in 
ridiculous  contrast  to  the  matter-of-fact  pair  of 
them,  who  stood  in  the  doorway,  and  tried  their 
best  to  look  as  if  the  arrival  of  Charlies  was  of 


TANGLED  UP  IN  BEULAH  LAND 

hourly  occurrence,  the  novelty  of  which  had  long 
since  worn  off. 

This  part  of  the  tableau  melted  away,  after  in- 
troductions, through  the  doorway,  my  contribution 
to  it  going  humbly  enough  along,  followed  a  little 
way  by  an  old  negro  in  a  dress  coat  from  another 
generation  and  race,  which  coat  was  very  much 
wrinkled  in  the  back.  He  carried  a  wisp  broom, 
and  I  was  left  to  be  properly  explained  and  gen- 
erously exalted  to  the  Doctor's  sister,  a  quaint 
relic  of  other  days,  fragile  and  softly  spoken,  in 
sober,  trim  attire,  with  a  pink  flush  in  her  cheeks, 
and  a  kindly  s.parkle  behind  her  spectacles.  So 
curiously  like  a  delicate  heirloom  did  she  appear 
that  one  was  a  little  afraid  the  Doctor's  breeziness 
would  knock  off  an  edge,  but  one  soon  enough 
saw  that  the  Doctor's  bounce  had  long  since  been 
adapted  to  this  gracious  light  of  other  days.  She 
had  a  way  of  involuntarily  putting  two  ringers 
over  her  lips  just  before  speaking,  as  if  her  re- 
moteness, so  like  the  spirit  of  Tuskaloo,  might 
become  oppressive,  which  was  rather  aggravating, 
for  I  am  sure  that  everybody  wanted  more  of  it, 
as  he  always  does  of  a  lost  ideal.  Something  in 
the  gray  kerchief  round  her  neck,  but  more  in  the 
soft,  equable  perspective  of  her  manner,  invested 
her  with  a  far-away  charm,  as  if  some  Quaker  an- 
cestor—  perhaps  Penn  himself — had  insisted  on 
peeping  out  of  her,  with  occasional  "  thees  and 
thous,"  all  the  more  delicious,  like  that  kerchief, 
because  they  did  not  quite  agree  with  the  present. 
Her  stately  courtesy  had  something  aerial  about 


WHERE    IS   TUSKALOO? 

it,  as  if  it  were  always  seen  through  the  haze  of 
years  ;  and  it  is  worth  saying  here  that,  long  as  we 
stayed  at  the  mansion,  we  never  heard  her  called 
anything  but  "  Mother  "  by  each  and  all,  not  one 
of  whom  had  any  other  than  a  tacit  metaphor  to 
stand  upon  excepting  lo. 

Some  women  bear  with  them,  into  old  age, 
ancestral  rights  that  make  the  whole  world  kin. 

Thus  were  we  landed  softly  enough,  but  to  our 
glad  amazement,  into  the  manorial  heart  of  Tus- 
kaloo,  where  life  went  on  with  whelming  gentle- 
ness, like  that  little  river,  making,  as  it  seemed 
to  me,  green  pastures  and  sweet  cloistered  de- 
mesnes, that,  even  to  write  about,  now  that  I 
think  about  it,  is  perilously  near  to  impertinence. 

I  suppose  all  fairly  rounded  out  men  —  that  is, 
rounded  out  by  protean  life  itself —  come  in  their 
ascending  spirals  to  that  point  when  it  is  no  longer 
possible  to  go  forward  with  their  hopes  without 
going  backward  with  their  desires.  Heaven 
slowly  shifts  its  position  from  the  clouds  and  re- 
appears behind  us  in  the  memory.  But  how  few 
of  us  can  retrace  our  steps  or  renew  our  zest.  In 
this  respect  the  Doctor  loomed  up  to  me  as  a 
favoured  paragon,  and  I  must  have  said  something 
like  this  to  him  as  we  stood  alone  on  that  porch, 
he  in  a  nankeen  jacket,  and  I  listening  to  the 
tinkle  of  a  bell  somewhere  in  wet  meadows  where 
the  cows  were  coming  home.  But  he  blew  me 
out  with  his  hearty  breath  as  if  I  had  been  a  mere 
tuppenny  dip  of  sentiment. 

"  Now,  none  of  your   confounded   introspec- 

53 


TANGLED  UP  IN  BEULAH  LAND 

tions,"  he  said,  "  I  will  not  have  it.  Did  you  not 
notice  my  sign  on  the  gate  ?  — c  All  analysts  are 
forbidden  to  trespass  on  these  grounds  under 
penalty  of  the  law'  —  the  common  law  of  healthy 
existence.  You  are  hungry ;  why  waste  your 
breath?  Dinner,  is  waiting.  I  hear  Bob  ringing 
her  voice." 

The  chateau  air  of  that  dinner  was  very  per- 
ceptible, eaten,  as  it  was,  under  wax  candles  in  a 
wainscoted  room  that  had  once  been  white  and 
gold  and  still  had  carvings  that  held  up  the 
mantle,  over  which  hung  a  portrait  of  Logan  in 
his  war  feathers.  A  coiffured  picture  or  two  on 
the  walls  seemed  to  be  dimly  dancing  a  dusky 
minuet  in  the  candle-light  as  if  they  might  be 
memorial  shadows.  The  great  gap  between  all 
this  and  all  that  which  we  had  just  left  grew  mo- 
mentarily. But  there  was  the  tableau  as  if  arranged 
at  the  board  by  Teniers  himself,  and,  like  all  good 
pictures,  carrying  its  own  warning  that  all  else 
was  subsidiary.  lo  could  not  very  well  help  being 
the  focus  of  this  group.  My  first  impression  of 
her  was  distinct  and  peculiar  enough  to  be  defi- 
nitely recalled.  It  was  one  of  those  cases,  com- 
mon enough,  I  think,  in  which  it  is  recognition 
that  baffles  you.  lo  I  had  certainly  never  met 
before,  —  indeed,  had  never  heard  of  her,  —  and 
yet,  the  first  time  we  looked  at  each  other,  I  re- 
membered her.  Something  in  the  beautiful  face 
was  familiar.  It  was  not  outline,  but  an  evasive 
expression,  an  expression  for  which  I  can  find  no 
other  word  than  that  of  familiarity.  I  suppose 

54 


WHERE   IS   TUSKALOO? 

we  all  hold  some  qualities  in  common,  and  they 
shake  spiritual  hands  when  they  meet. 

I  thought  afterward,  in  trying  to  recall  where 
I  had  seen  anything  like  her,  of  a  picture  I  had 
once  observed  attentively  in  the  old  Vernon 
Gallery  in  London.  I  believe  it  was  by  Copley, 
and  the  immature  stateliness  and  tenderness  of 
the  white  face,  so  simply  framed  in  by  soft  brown 
hair,  seemed  to  me  at  the  time  to  be  strangely 
fascinating.  I  have  since  looked  at  a  print  of  that 
picture,  and  it  was  not  at  all  like  lo,  which  only 
shows  how  we  carry  an  archetype  in  our  minds, 
and  go  about  placing  it  on  other  persons'  can- 
vases, lo  looked  nineteen.  I  learned  afterward 
that  she  was  much  older.  I  felt  sure,  however,  at 
the  very  start,  that  she  did  not  know  exactly  how 
superior  she  was  to  the  artistic  eye.  How  could 
she,  in  that  place,  where  there  were  no  artists  or 
flatterers  to  be  always  bothering  her  about  the 
curve  of  that  white  neck  or  the  pose  of  that 
head. 

Have  you  not,  now  and  then,  met  young 
women  who  appeared  to  be  ignorant  of  their 
supreme  endowment  of  personal  charm  ?  You 
reply  —  impossible.  If  they  are  not  born  self- 
conscious,  they  acquire  self-consciousness  from 
the  atmosphere  they  breathe.  True,  but  I  only 
said  appeared  to  be.  Feminine  charm  is  not 
declaratory,  only  suggestive. 

As  for  Polly,  I  understood  at  once  that  she 
was  indigenous.  She  and  the  Juniata  came  up 
together.  A  round,  vital,  effervescent,  domestic 

55 


TANGLED  UP  IN  BEULAH  LAND 

soubrette,  with  a  delightful  snub  nose  on  which 
two  or  three  freckles  had  lit,  and  a  red,  restless 
mouth  full  of  little  white  teeth,  not  made  to  bite, 
but  merely  to  accent  volubility,  like  the  high  lights 
in  a  clever  oil  painting. 

To  be  made  the  principals  in  such  a  sextet, 
written,  one  might  say,  by  Lully,  but  played  by 
Liszt  on  a  modern  instrument,  only  seemed  to 
heighten  the  necromancy  of  our  introduction. 

The  Doctor  was  superbly  patriarchal  at  the 
head  of  his  table,  without  allowing  his  accumula- 
tive years  to  obscure  his  imperishable  youthful- 
ness  of  spirit.  He  had  slipped  somehow  from  a 
nankeen  to  a  velvet  jacket,  and  cast  behind  his 
chair  that  colonial  shadow  of  a  servitor,  in  a  white 
apron  and  wrinkled,  shad-bellied  coat  —  as  straight 
as  self-respect  and  tradition  could  make  him,  and 
holding  his  waiter  against  his  breast  as  he  rolled 
up  his  eyes  in  patient  decorum. 

One  felt  at  once  that  affection  allowed  the 
Doctor's  full,  galloping  candour  many  liberties 
that  would  have  been  gruff  but  for  the  constant 
declaration  of  his  face  that  they  were  merely 
temperamental  extravagances.  He  informed  us 
promptly  that  he  was  additionally  glad  we  had 
come,  for  Polly's  sake.  Live  men  were  necessary 
occasionally,  like  cold  baths,  to  dispel  the  im- 
aginary men.  He  really  believed  that  Polly  had 
begun  to  write  poems  to  Boylston. 

Whereupon  Polly  explained  our  host  as  a  dear 
old  reminiscence,  who  would  be  an  inestimable 
uncle  if  he  were  not  such  a  traditional  doctor,  and 

56 


WHERE    IS    TUSKALOO? 

did  not  insist  on  continually  treating  his  family  as 
patients.  "  I  never  had  a  pulse  in  my  life,"  said 
Polly,  "  that  his  finger  wasn't  on  it." 

"  My  dear,"  said  the  Doctor,  with  splendid  ami- 
ability, "  in  old  times  we  used  to  judge  of  a  girl's 
condition  by  looking  at  her  tongue.  We  no 
longer  need  to  do  that.  We  only  have  to  listen 
to  it." 

Even  Polly  laughed  while  she  replied,  "  I  never 
wrote  a  poem  in  my  life.  I  couldn't — besides, 
there  is  nobody  here  who  would  understand  it." 

"  You  did  not  need  to,"  I  observed,  with  what 
I  thought  was  the  proper  courtliness  of  such  a 
place,  "  you  probably  lived  it,  which  was  better." 

Charlie  and  lo,  who  were  directly  opposite  and 
ridiculously  proper  in  their  fear  of  each  other, 
looked  at  me,  I  thought,  with  a  little  envy  of  my 
age  that  could  say  such  things,  and  so  I  pro- 
ceeded. 

"  Doctor,"  I  said,  "  we  set  out  for  the  wilder- 
ness, and  have  arrived  at  Mount  Ida." 

"Nonsense!"  exclaimed,  the  Doctor.  "Just 
plain  Tuskaloo  —  and  Indian.  I  suppose  you 
think  you  are  on  Mount  Ida  because  you  have 
lo  in  front  of  you.  It  isn't  Grecian.  It's  wild 
western,  and  means  that  our  goddess  was  born  in 
Iowa —  Cedar  Rapids,  wasn't  it,  my  dear  ?  They 
abbreviate  everything  out  there  except  the  girls 
themselves." 

"  That's  just  it,"  I  answered.  "  Charlie  and  I 
set  out  to  discover  Arcady,  and  an  Indian  river 
flirted  ahead  of  us  and  seemed  to  call  out,  '  This 

57 


TANGLED  UP  IN  BEULAH  LAND 

way,  gentlemen,  open  your  eyes  and  shut  your 
mouths.'  It  would  have  reminded  us  of  an  ac- 
tress, if  your  river  had  called  itself  the  Tiber  or 
the  Rubicon." 

Charlie  gave  me  a  quick,  inquiring  glance,  but 
I  flatter  myself  I  preserved  an  innocent  aspect, 
and  Polly  broke  out :  — 

"  Tibers  are  yellow,"  she  said,  "  and  Rubicons 
must  be  red.  Fancy  a  river  that  is  celebrated 
because  somebody  crossed  it  —  who  was  it?  I 
tried  to  paint  the  Juniata  because  it  is  always  blue, 
and  Uncle  said  I  must  get  a  multiscope.  What 
is  a  multiscope  ?  It  sounds  like  a  chorus." 

"  A  multiscope,  my  dear,"  said  the  Doctor,  "  is 
a  new  invention  for  adding  motion  to  meaning. 
They  have  to  have  even  statuary  on  the  jump  in 
the  large  cities.  The  Juniata,"  he  added,  address- 
ing himself  to  me,  "  is  the  only  river  that  in  its 
sources  we  have  not  annotated  with  canals.  The 
Susquehanna  always  reminds  me  of  a  Biblical  com- 
mentary with  its  marginal  readings  and  footnotes. 
The  travellers  follow  the  stream  as  does  a  Biblical 
student,  without  touching  it." 

"  When  Uncle  goes  to  Harrisburg,"  said  Polly, 
"  he  wants  a  canoe,  and  would  sit  in  the  end  of  it 
wrapped  in  a  blanket  and  rail  at  the  world  with  a 
paddle.  And  he  can't  paddle  a  bit.  I've  tried 
him,  and  he  upset  me." 

"  So  I  never  go  to  Harrisburg,"  replied  the 
Doctor,  with  unfaltering  good  humour.  "  I  wait, 
and  if  everything  doesn't  come  to  me  at  Tuska- 
loo,  I  count  it  gain." 

58 


WHERE   IS   TUSKALOO? 

"  My,"  observed  Mother,  as  she  pressed  her 
fingers  to  her  mouth  and  gave  way  to  a  mild  foot- 
note herself,  "  I  am  sure  we  should  not  have 
gained  anything  if  our  guests  had  not  come." 

"  Oh,  it's  too  early  to  judge,"  cried  the  Doctor. 
"  Wait  till  we  see  how  Polly  acts." 

Then  we  all  laughed  heartily,  including  Polly. 

Late  that  night,  when  Charlie  and  I  were  alone, 
and  had  shut  our  defensive  chamber  doors  on  the 
circumambient  hospitality,  he  looked  at  me  quite 
seriously,  and  said  :  — 

"  Did  you  know  of  these  girls,  Dad,  before  we 
came  ?  " 

"  As  I  hope  for  mercy,  Comrade,'*  I  said,  with 
unnecessary  earnestness,  "  I  never  dreamed  of 
them,  much  less  heard  of  them,  till  this  evening." 

That  seemed  to  clear  his  mental  atmosphere  of 
some  kind  of  suspicion,  and  I  added :  — 

"  I  don't  think  any  dream  would  have  ap- 
proached the  reality,  my  boy  —  do  you?" 

"  Very  charming,  homelike  ladies,  I  am  sure," 
he  replied.  "  I  wonder  if  there's  a  post-office  in 
Tuskaloo." 

This  kind  of  stubbornness  aggravates  a  man  of 
fifty.  "  Confound  your  cucumber  soul,  my  boy," 
I  exclaimed,  "  when  I  was  your  age  I  would 
have  burst  into  a  blaze  of  enthusiasm  if  an  lo  had 
crossed  my  path.  Egad,  sir,  one  did,  and  you're 
a  living  proof  of  it.  Why,  sir,  at  such  a  meteor, 
as  Gray  says  :  — 

E'en  from  the  tomb  the  voice  of  Nature  cries, 
E'en  in  our  ashes  live  their  wonted  fires. 

59 


TANGLED  UP  IN  BEULAH  LAND 

Go  to.  If  I  were  as  free  as  you  are  —  ahem  — 
I'd  have  a  throne  built  in  my  imagination  in  half 
an  hour  for  such  a  girl  as  that.  Don't  she  remind 
you  a  little  of  Madame  Coldcream  in  her  poise 
of  character  ?  Perhaps  you  couldn't  study  her  as 
well  as  I  could." 

The  look  of  disgust  that  came  into  his  face  as 
he  turned  away  induced  me  to  soften  my  strain. 

"  Anyway,"  I  said,  "  you  must  understand  that 
it  would  be  a  blessed  thing  for  our  forlorn  stock 
if  we  got  such  an  ideal  as  that  into  it.  Yes,  sir, 
it's  worth  some  self-sacrifice,  and,  by  Jove,  if  I 
were  a  free  man,  I'd  make  the  sacrifice,  for  I  am 
not  as  blase  in  my  feelings  as  you  are." 

He  walked  away,  and  mumbled  something  to 
himself.  I  asked  him  what  he  was  saying. 

"  I  was  only  saying,"  he  replied,  as  he  saun- 
tered out,  "  that  if  you  look  at  it  in  that  way,  and 
there's  got  to  be  a  sacrifice  made,  why  not  offer 
up  Madame  Coldcream  ?  " 

Then  he  was  gone.  I  went  to  bed,  where  I  lay 
for  some  time  punching  myself  in  my  imaginary 
ribs,  and  wondering  whether  my  Prospero  of  a 
Doctor  had  brought  an  Ariel  or  a  Miranda  to  my 
assistance. 


60 


CHAPTER   IV 

THE    ROSE    BENCH 

HE  sun,  coming  up  at  a  most  un- 
reasonable hour,  poked  a  sharp 
yellow  shaft  at  me  through  the 
rose  vines,  and  seemed  to  be  call- 
ing my  attention  to  the  bird  clam- 
our under  my  window.  The 
curtains  at  the  sash  were  waving  indolently  into 
the  room,  sending  heavy  billows  of  incense  at  me. 
I  looked  about  me,  and  tried  to  recall  just  where 
I  was.  For  some  time  the  reality  of  my  environ- 
ment appeared  to  be  a  part  of  a  slowly  receding 
dream,  and  by  the  time  I  had  reached  the  window 
and  had  made  out  my  bearings,  I  became  pleas- 
antly conscious  that  I  had  really  awakened  in  a 
new  world.  I  listened.  Nothing  was  stirring, 
evidently,  but  the  birds.  I  went  to  the  adjoining 
room  softly.  My  heir  and  companion  in  intrigue 
was  sleeping  soundly  in  a  luxuriant  sprawl,  his 

61 


TANGLED  UP  IN  BEULAH  LAND 

half-draped  figure  looking  white  and  rather 
graceful,  I  thought,  in  the  dewy  dusk  of  the 
recess. 

I  dressed  myself  and  slipped  down  the  stairs 
noiselessly.  The  house  had  the  air  of  always 
standing  wide  open.  I  walked  through  the  hall 
and  out  of  the  open  door  into  the  fresh  morning, 
saying  to  myself,  somewhat  exultingly,  that  the 
man  from  the  city  was  the  early  bird  after  all.  I 
looked  at  my  watch.  It  was  just  five  o'clock. 
The  sun  for  a  week,  I  learned  afterward,  rose 
through  the  Tuscarora  Gorge,  and  gave  that 
special  charm  of  dawn  that  makes  the  shadows 
long  and  the  wet  fields  prismatic. 

I  stood  a  moment  in  the  gravelled  path,  a  little 
bewildered  by  the  blazonry  of  the  hour,  trying  to 
adjust  my  faculties  to  the  newness  and  freshness 
of  it,  unconsciously  taking  deep  breaths,  as  a 
mammal  might  that  is  suddenly  launched  into  an 
unaccustomed  atmosphere. 

By  degrees  the  sumptuous  and  intoxicating 
beauty  of  it  became  intelligible,  to  my  eye  at  least, 
as  I  measured  some  of  the  details.  The  same 
old  artist  was  at  work,  —  I  say  "  old  "  with  some 
hesitation,  —  but  surely  those  were  not  the  old 
pigments.  Or  does  the  Great  Artist,  always  work- 
ing with  the  same  pigments,  have  moods  like  his 
feeble  imitator,  and  sometimes  transfuse  and 
transform  the  materials  with  a  new  mastership  of 
affection  ? 

I  took  off  my  hat  as  if  to  let  the  cool,  rose- 
scented  air  come  to  the  assistance  of  my  brain, 

62 


THE   ROSE   BENCH 

and  stood  there,  feeling  that  I  was  turning  from  a 
bewildered  artist  to  a  reverent  worshipper. 

Thus  it  is,  I  said  to  myself,  that  the  Master  con- 
tinues to  plant  gardens  eastward  in  Eden,  and  a  river 
still  goes  out  to  water  the  garden  and  compasseth 
the  whole  land  of  Havilah,  where  there  is  gold. 

Having  returned  this  borrowed  tribute  where 
it  belonged,  I  put  my  hat  on,  and  was  about  to 
stride  aimlessly  through  the  grass,  when  there  — 
shall  I  say  rose  up,  or  descended,  or  merely 
developed  like  a  figure  on  a  film?  —  a  thing  in  a 
tucked-up  petticoat  and  tilted  chip  hat,  showing 
Arcadian  ankles  in  red  stockings,  dew-stained  I 
swear,  and  carrying  a  little  basket  on  her  arm,  as 
jauntily  as  if  she  had  been  picking  airy  pippins  in 
the  garden  of  the  Hesperides. 

It  was  Polly. 

I  never  knew  dew  and  sunrise  and  ether  and 
bird  songs  to  come  together  on  their  own  account, 
but  out  stepped  a  Polly  like  a  melody  when  the 
instrument  and  the  Master  were  ready.  Gener- 
ally she  is  as  impalpable  and  evanescent  as  the 
filmies  that  flout  themselves  behind  all  sympho- 
nies. But  this  time  she  was  indubitable,  dew- 
bedraggled,  making  a  shadow  of  her  own,  like  a 
French  silhouette,  on  the  wet  June  grass,  —  which 
I  am  sure  a  filmy  never  does,  —  and  holding  down 
two  measurable  spots  in  the  clover  with  her  little 
buckled  shoes. 

"  Bon  jour,  mademoiselle,"  I  said,  my  polite- 
ness and  my  astonishment  going  off  together  with 
an  impromptu  French  alacrity. 

63 


TANGLED  UP  IN  BEULAH  LAND 

"  My,"  she  said,  "  I  did  not  expect  to  meet 
you  so  early  !  I  must  look  like  a  tramp.  Have 
you  had  your  coffee  ?  " 

"  Coffee  ?  "  I  repeated  with  considerable  disdain, 
and  making  an  absurd  inflation  as  if  a  man  of  my 
age  could  live  on  rose-scented  air.  "  I  have  been 
taking  my  Clicquot  in  a  supernal  bath,  and  I 
fancy  I  got  ahead  of  coffee  this  morning." 

"  How  stupid  not  to  have  told  you.  You 
came  out  the  back  way  !  " 

"  I  believe  I  did,  if  there  is  a  back  way." 

"  And  the  coffee  is  in  the  front  hall.  I  will 
walk  round  and  show  it  to  you.  Then  you  will 
know  better  next  time." 

"  Delighted.     Let  me  carry  your  basket." 

"  No.  I  will  leave  it  at  the  kitchen  as  we  go 
round.  I  gathered  them  at  the  Swirl." 

It  was  full  of  mushrooms. 

Having  deposited  her  basket  at  the  kitchen 
door,  she  led  me  to  the  front  veranda,  her  little 
heels  clattering  ahead  of  me,  and  inside  the  wide- 
open  hall  door,  on  a  small  table,  was  a  steaming 
urn  of  coffee  with  a  spirit  lamp  under  it,  and  be- 
side it  a  tray  of  cups,  a  sugar  bowl,  and  a  jug  of 
cream. 

"  Everybody  comes  out  this  way  in  the  morn- 
ing," she  said,  "  and  takes  his  coffee  as  he  passes. 
It  is  the  Doctor's  rule.  You  will  have  no  excuse 
for  breaking  it  again." 

Then  she  held  a  cup  under  the  silver  tap  and 
handed  me  the  black  product  daintily,  pointing  as 
she  did  so  to  the  cream  jug  and  the  sugar ;  and, 

64 


THE   ROSE    BENCH 

before  I  knew  it,  she  had  excused  herself  and 
flitted  up  the  broad  staircase. 

I  stood  there  a  moment  stirring  my  coffee  con- 
templatively, wondering  at  the  extra  flavour  of  it, 
and  feeling  rather  proud  of  my  early  achievement, 
when  I  saw  the  tray  of  abandoned  cups  with  the 
spoons  in  them,  and  it  occurred  to  me  for  the 
first  time  that  the  family  had  all  preceded  me, 
and  having  passed  the  coffee  ordeal,  had  gone  on 
somewhere  silently  into  the  mazes  of  outdoors. 

As  there  was  a  box  of  perfecto  cigars  on  the 
table,  with  the  lid  invitingly  open,  I  helped  my- 
self, and  strolled  out  upon  the  front  veranda;  and 
presently  Polly,  in  dry  shoes  and  stockings,  —  the 
stockings  having  undergone  some  kind  of  sea 
change  to  a  sober  gray,  —  came  out,  and  catching 
hold  of  my  arm  as  I  strode  up  and  down, 
promptly  and  unconcernedly  kept  step  rhyth- 
mically and  colloquially. 

"  He  has  been  up  an  hour,"  she  said.  "  He 
and  Boylston  went  to  Tuskaloo  for  the  mail. 
Where  did  Mr.  Charles  go  ?  " 

"  Go  ?  "  I  said.  "  He  has  no  go  in  him  at  this 
hour.  He  is  fast  asleep  in  his  room." 

"  Dear  me  !  "  she  exclaimed.  "  Let's  wake  him 
up.  That's  his  window  over  the  rose  bench.  We 
can  throw  things  up  at  him." 

I  pulled  her  arm  a  little  closer  through  mine. 
We  were  walking  quite  vigorously  up  and  down 
on  the  veranda,  and  there  is  some  kind  of  luxury 
in  having  a  girl  keep  step  with  you  buoyantly 
while  she  hangs  on  to  you.  (So  many  of  them 


TANGLED  UP  IN  BEULAH  LAND 

add  a  drag  instead  of  wings.)  Such  a  girl  con- 
verts a  solo  of  motion  into  a  duet  of  delight. 

"  Perhaps  he  is  timid,"  I  said,  "  and  it  would 
not  help  matters  if  you  made  a  demonstration." 

"  Yes,"  she  replied ;  "  he  is  quite  young,  isn't 
he?" 

It  is  a  curious  feminine  phenomenon  that  girls 
regard  all  boys  of  their  own  age  as  being  pecul- 
iarly young. 

"  Besides,"  I  said,  "  there  is  nothing  to  throw, 
unless  we  take  the  bricks  out  of  the  foundation." 

With  that  she  drew  her  arm  away,  skipped  off 
the  end  of  the  veranda,  and,  pulling  at  the  great 
masses  of  roses  that  hung  over  the  stone  bench, 
twisted  the  stems  together  deftly,  making  a  clumsy 
bouquet,  and  then  dexterously  shot  it  into  the 
upper  window. 

As  I  stood  at  the  step,  laughing  at  this  exhibi- 
tion of  girlishness,  she  caught  up  another  hand- 
ful of  the  plentiful  blooms,  and  just  as  she  threw 
it,  Charlie  appeared  at  the  window  in  a  bath  robe, 
pinned  together  over  his  breast  by  a  live  fist,  and 
received  the  morning  message  full  in  the  face, 
where,  like  a  friendly  bombshell,  it  burst  into  a 
thousand  leaves,  that  came  fluttering  and  whirling 
in  a  descending  shower  upon  the  rose  bench,  at 
which  the  picturesque  maiden  executed  a  stage 
courtesy,  and  cried  out,  in  imitation  of  me :  — 

"  Bon  jour,  monsieur.  Shall  I  have  your 
coffee  sent  up,  with  the  cream  of  the  morning  on 
it,  or  will  you  come  down  ?  " 

And  Charlie,  unable  to  grasp  the  true  sportivc- 
.66 


THE   ROSE   BENCH 

ness  of  it  at  once,  retired  from  view,  wiping  the 
dew  from  his  face  without  making  reply. 

This  incident  served  to  pave  the  way  —  shall  I 
say  with  rose  leaves  ?  —  to  Polly's  character, 
though  it  is  unjust  to  her  to  suppose  that  she  so 
intended  it.  I  think  one  clings  to  such  a  delight- 
ful indifference  to  the  usual  methods  of  establish- 
ing an  intimacy,  and  I  was  saying  to  myself,  "  Oh, 
ho !  that's  the  kind  of  witch  you  are,  is  it  ? " 
when  she  flirted  away  the  bank  of  petals  on  the 
rose  bench  with  her  skirt,  and  beckoned  me  to 
come  and  sit  down  beside  her. 

"  I  suppose,"  she  said,  "  he  will  think  I  am  a 
dreadfully  rude  sort  of  person.  Everybody  does 
at  first." 

"  Excuse  me,"  I  replied,  sitting  down  beside 
her,  "  not  everybody." 

"  What  do  you  think  ?  You  expected  to  meet 
a  lady,  of  course.  I  suppose  it  is  a  shame." 

"  What  is  ?  " 

"  I  am." 

"  Why  do  you  wish  to  disagree  with  me  at  the 
first  jump  ? " 

"  Tell  me  about  him "  (sticking  her  index 
finger  up  at  Charlie's  window).  "  Did  you  bring 
him  down  here,  or  did  he  bring  you  ? " 

I  confess  that  this  incredible  and  instinctive 
leap  of  the  witch's  apprehension  startled  me.  I 
looked  at  her  with  indulgent  surprise,  wondering 
what  kind  of  divination  was  lurking  under  that 
chip  hat  and  trim,  round  bodice. 

"Why  don't  you  tell  me  all  about  it? "  she  asked. 

67 


TANGLED  UP  IN  BEULAH  LAND 

"My  dear  Polly  —  " 

"  I  wish  you  wouldn't  call  me  Polly." 

"  What  shall  I  call  you  ?  " 

"  Call  me  Bob.  Everybody  here  does.  It 
saves  time." 

"  I  cannot  imagine  who  invented  that  atrocious 
and  ill-fitting  name  for  you." 

"Why,  HE,  of  course." 

"He?" 

"The  Doctor.  He  is  HE.  We  couldn't  be 
calling  him  Doctor  all  the  time." 

"So  my  old  friend  has  become  a  pronoun  ! " 

"HE  used  to  call  me  Bobolink,  then  it  got 
shortened  to  Bob.  It  was  very  absurd,  because, 
as  I  told  Him,  if  I  was  a  real  bobolink,  you 
couldn't  keep  me  here  in  the  winter.  Guess 
what  HE  said.  Oh,  yes,  we  could,  Birdie  —  in 
a  cage.  How  would  you  like  to  be  kept  in  a 
cage  in  winter  ?  " 

"  I  fancy  I  might  like  it  if  it  belonged  to  such 
a  HE." 

"  At  first  I  retaliated  and  called  lo  Ike,  but 
somehow  it  wouldn't  stick  to  her,  though  I  am 
sure  Ike  has  a  truer  Greek  ring  than  lo,  hasn't 
it?  If  one  stops  to  think  of  lo,  one  wants  to 
add  c  sometimes  W  and  Y.'  What  do  people  call 
you,  who  are  familiar  ?  (  Mister '  is  dreadfully 
clumsy." 

"  Nobody  treated  me  with  true  familiarity  till  I 
met  you  —  except  Charlie,  and  he  calls  me  Com- 
rade sometimes." 

"  How  perfectly  childlike  and  lovely.  It's 
68 


THE   ROSE   BENCH 

almost  as  endearing  as  '  Old  Chap.'  I  suppose 
you  wouldn't  care  to  have  me  call  you  *  Old 
Chap.' ' 

"  No,  you  couldn't  get  the  right  swagger. 
Women  never  do.  Now  tell  me,  what  made  you 
think  that  either  of  us  brought  the  other  ?  " 

When  one  asks  this  kind  of  a  creature  to  tell  him 
what  makes  her  think,  he  baffles  her.  She  is  not 
yet  quite  sure  that  she  does  think  at  all.  At  all 
events  this  young  woman  did  not  stop  to  think, 
she  went  right  along. 

"  It  is  so  unusual,"  she  said,  "  for  young  men 
to  stick  to  their  fathers  and  keep  their  eyes  on 
them  all  the  time." 

"  Oh,  I  assure  you  he  will  not  be  able  to  keep 
his  eyes  on  me  all  the  time  down  here.  I  should 
think  you  would  know  that." 

"  You  felt  that  way  about  it,  did  you,  before 
you  came  ?  " 

Then  we  both  looked  at  each  other  a  moment 
as  if  worldly  wisdom  and  inscrutable  ingenuous- 
ness would  like  to  shake  hands,  but  did  not  know 
how  to  go  about  it. 

"HE  is  awfully  transparent  sometimes,  but 
HE  doesn't  know  it,  so  HE  cannot  help  letting 
the  cat  out  of  the  bag." 

While  I  was  trying  to  separate  these  metaphors 
and  pronouns,  she  rattled  on  :  — 

"'Bob,'  says  HE,  'an  old  friend  of  mine  is 
coming  here ;  try  and  behave  yourself.  I  have 
special  reasons  for  making  it  as  pleasant  as  pos- 
sible for  him.  He  brings  his  son  with  him  —  a 


TANGLED  UP  IN  BEULAH  LAND 

fine  young  man.'  *  Oh,'  says  I,  £  is  he  the  special 
reason  ? '  ( If  you  don't  behave  yourself/  says 
HE,  'I'll  pack  you  off  while  they  are  here.' 
'  Then,'  says  I,  l  they  will  not  stay.'  f  Confound 
your  impudence ! '  says  HE.  f  Do  you  think 
you  are  the  special  reason  for  everything  that 
takes  place  in  this  house  ?  I  wish  you  to  under- 
stand that  there  is  somebody  else  in  this  establish- 
ment/ f  Oh,'  says  I, c  is  SHE  the  special  reason  ? 
Glory!'  Then  HE  takes  down  the  dog  whip 
from  the  mantel  and  begins  to  flourish  it,  and  I 
skip  out  to  see  him  hanging  it  up  again  and 
shaking  all  over  with  laughter.  I  do  like  a  man 
who  can  be  brutally  candid.  You  can,  can't  you  ? 
Is  lo  the  special  reason  ?  " 

"  Look  here,  Bob,"  said  I,  adapting  myself  to 
her  familiarity  without  the  slightest  effort,  "  you 
have  gone  quite  ahead  of  the  facts  with  your 
fervid  fancy.  Neither  I  nor  Charlie  knew  of  the 
existence  of  lo  till  we  got  here.  It  is  a  humiliat- 
ing confession,  but  I  never  even  heard  of  you." 

"  I  wonder  why  HE  didn't  tell  you  in  ad- 
vance." 

"  I  don't  believe  HE  saw  the  burning  importance 
of  it." 

"  Do  you  ?  " 

"  Well,  I'm  beginning  to." 

"  Who  is  it  important  to  ?  "  (sticking  her  finger 
up  in  the  air  again).  "  I  suppose  you  think 
he  is  handsome,  don't  you  ?  " 

"  A  father's  opinion  is  of  no  account.  What 
do  you  think  ?  " 

70 


THE    ROSE    BENCH 

"  Oh,  I  think  he  is  so-so.  But  I  don't  cut 
any  ice.  Why  cannot  men  be  simple  and  candid 
when  they  cease  to  be  so  very  young  ?  " 

"  I  am  not  so  very  old,  Bob,"  I  protested. 

"  No,  you  don't  seem  to  be  as  old  as  you  must 
be.  You  see,  I  was  not  sent  off  to  Harrisburg 
to  be  fitted  with  new  dresses  because  you  were 
coming." 

"  That  is  a  compliment ;  you  didn't  need  to 
be." 

"You  mean  that  I  was  not  a  need  of  the 
occasion." 

"  No,  I  don't  mean  anything  of  the  kind. 
There  wasn't  any  special  occasion." 

"Then  what  did  HE  mean  by  c  special  rea- 
sons '  ?  " 

"HE  is  an  old  chum  of  mine,  and  he  wanted 
to  keep  me  as  long  as  possible,  I  suppose.  Do 
you  think  that  you  are  following  his  directions 
now  ?  " 

"  I  am  trying  to  find  out  how  to  follow  them." 

By  this  time  I  was  beginning  to  readjust  my 
opinion  of  Polly's  intuition,  and  to  suspect  that 
she  had  obtained  a  glimpse  of  my  letter  to  the 
Doctor.  "  Perhaps,"  I  said,  "HE  only  wanted 
to  warn  you  against  your  reckless  curiosity.  You 
are  trying  to  make  yourself  believe  that  we  came 
down  here  for  a  flirtation.  Fancy  running  away 
from  a  city  full  of  women  —  and  such  women  — 
to  get  up  a  flirtation  where  there  are  only  two 
women." 

"  And  such  women,"  added  Polly.     "  People 


TANGLED  UP  IN  BEULAH  LAND 

sometimes  run  away  to  avoid  a  flirtation,  don't 
they  ?  " 

This  was  too  much.  She  had  certainly  seen 
my  letter  to  the  Doctor,  so  I  said  :  — 

"  Very  well.  Suppose  it  was  true,  how  can 
you  help  the  matter  by  proving  that  we  have 
jumped  out  of  the  frying-pan  into  the  fire  ? " 

And  then  this  incorrigible  minx,  with  her  chip 
hat  nearly  over  one  eye,  looked  at  me  without  a 
tremor  and  said  :  — 

"  Tell  me  about  the  frying-pan." 

I  returned  her  look  with  what  her  confounded 
divination  must  have  seen  was  admiration,  and 
while  I  was  considering  if  I  should  not  make  a 
clean  breast  of  it,  she  said :  — 

"  You  are  really  a  much  meaner  man  at  bottom 
than  you  look  to  be  —  one  of  those  smiling  men 
who  like  to  torment  a  girl  by  looking  confidential, 
and  acting  like  a  long-distance  telephone." 

"  Bob,"  I  said,  "  you  are  too  old  for  your  age, 
and  as  I  am  altogether  too  young  for  mine,  we  are 
going  to  have  considerable  trouble  in  adjusting 
ourselves  to  each  other." 

This  was  an  obvious  evasion,  and  it  was  like 
a  worm  talking  sophistry  to  the  woodpecker. 

"  Of  course,  you  know  that  Charles,  now  that 
he  is  here,  will  fall  in  love  with  lo,"  she  said. 

"  Then  I  should  have  to  take  him  away,  for  it 
would  be  very  indiscreet  on  his  part." 

At  this  she  leaned  over  to  look  up  into  my 
face,  as  if  she  had  the  power  of  peeping  behind 
my  words.  I  could  feel  the  pry  of  her  bright 

72 


THE   ROSE    BENCH 

eyes.  "  Then  you  do  take  him  away  from  places 
when  he  is  indiscreet,  don't  you  ?  "  And  then 
suddenly  she  exclaimed :  "  Gracious  me,  you 
must  think  I  am  an  impertinent  gossip.  When 
you  and  HE  get  your  heads  together,  how  my 
ears  will  burn  !  " 

"  Bob,  I  am  quite  willing  to  acknowledge  that 
you  are  a  delightful  little  gossip,"  I  said.  "  But 
you  must  not  conclude  that  everybody  else  is." 

"Oh,  you  will  sit  here  together;  this  is  HIS 
judgment  seat,  where  HE  smokes  HIS  pipe  and 
looks  like  Solomon  and  tries  to  talk  like  Carlyle, 
and  you  will  both  tear  me  limb  from  limb.  You  will 
say, f  What  kind  of  a  girl  is  that  Bob  ?  She  tried 
to  make  a  confidant  of  me  at  the  first  clip,  and, 
by  Jove  ! '  —  you  say c  By  Jove  !  '  don't  you  ?  — 
c  by  Jove  !  I'll  be  hanged  if  she  didn't  come  within 
an  ace  of  it,  too  ! '  And  HE  will  say,  *  Oh,  don't 
bother  with  Bob  —  we  have  other  fish  to  fry. 
Let  her  hop  round  and  pick  up  a  worm  or  two 
and  twitter.  Twitter,  my  dear  sir,  is  one  of  the 
harmless  embellishments  of  retirement.'  ' 

I  listened  to  this  vivacity  with  indulgent  admira- 
tion. Her  heedless  volubility  and  piquant  sauci- 
ness  were  suggestive  truly  of  a  bobolink. 

"  Yes,"  I  said,  like  the  boy  who  is  having  his 
fortune  told,  "  then  what  will  I  say  ?  " 

"  Oh,  you  will  look  a  little  tired,  and  say, 
*  Oh,  Bob  is  all  right,  and,  by  Jove  !  sir,  if  she 
wasn't  so  confounded  old,  I'd  make  love  to  her 
myself.' ' 

At  this  point,  as  we  were  both  looking  into 

73 


TANGLED    UP   IN    BEULAH    LAND 

each  other's  eyes,  it  was  quite  natural  that  we 
should  both  tumble  into  a  common  laugh,  just 
as  two  streams  coming  from  opposite  directions 
will  fall  over  the  same  precipice. 

This  little  attorney,  I  was  saying  to  myself, 
with  her  bill  and  her  plumage,  will  make  quick 
work  of  my  unsophisticated  lad.  There  will  not 
be  a  family  secret  that  she  will  not  use  as  a  perch 
on  which  to  twitter.  - 

Just  then  the  Doctor's  resonant  voice  broke 
in  upon  us  pleasantly  as  he  drove  up  to  the  rear 
entrance. 

"  I'll  tell  you  what  we  will  do,"  said  Bob, 
jumping  up.  "  You  and  I  will  go  off  to  the 
Swirl  as  soon  as  we  get  our  breakfast.  You 
must  see  the  Swirl  first  of  all,  and  I  must  show 
it  to  you.  Shall  I  ?  " 

"  Must  I  see  the  Swirl  ?  " 

"  Certainly,  and  you  must  see  it  with  me 
before  you  and  HE  get  your  heads  together." 

"  Agreed,"  I  said  helplessly,  as  I  followed  her 
through  the  hall,  to  find  Charlie  a  little  apart  at 
the  balustrade  reading  a  tiny  blue  letter,  and  the 
Doctor  and  Boylston  unloading  packages  from  the 
vehicle.  Bob  rushed  at  Charlie  impetuously, 
with  the  one  purpose,  I  am  sure,  of  seeing  how 
he  would  act  with  the  letter,  and  saluted  him 
apologetically. 

"  Good  morrow,  Mr.  Charles.  I  was  unpar- 
donably  rude  at  your  window." 

"  It  was  nothing,  I  assure  you,"  said  my  absurd 
son,  flushing  up  as  if  he  felt  the  blow  of  the 

74 


THE    ROSE    BENCH 

roses  anew,  looking  at  me  nervously,  and  ramming 
the  letter  into  his  side  pocket  as  if  it  were  stolen 
money.  "  I  rather  liked  it,  you  know,"  he  said. 

"  Yes,  I  might  have  put  your  eyes  out." 

"  Here,  Bob,"  cried  the  Doctor.  "Take  these 
packages  up  to  lo's  room,  and  don't  you  untie 
them  until  after  breakfast." 

"  You  see,"  he  said,  addressing  himself  to  me, 
as  if  an  apology  were  necessary  for  his  morning 
jaunt,  "  these  days  are  so  precious  that  we  piece 
them  out  at  the  top  with  an  extra  hour  or  two  of 
coiffure.  They  are  like  those  old  dames  who 
used  to  make  themselves  longer  with  their  head- 
dresses." 

As  he  was  speaking  lo  appeared  at  the  door, 
with  the  family  Mother  behind  her  like  a  shadow, 
holding  a  finger  to  her  lip.  Off  went  all  the  hats, 
down  to  Boylston,  as  if  the  courtly  hours  with 
their  coiffures  of  dawn  made  ancient  gallants  of 
us  all. 

"  I  must  have  overslept  myself,"  said  lo, 
looking  resplendently  demure  in  her  long  morn- 
ing wrap,  as  if  she  had  broken  a  law  of  the  es- 
tablishment by  not  having  her  eyes  open  at 
sunrise. 

"  You  always  do,  my  lady,"  said  the  Doctor, 
whose  gallantry  relapsed  at  once  into  his  custom- 
ary hearty  badinage.  "  I'm  going  to  put  a  sunrise 
gun  under  your  window." 

"  Do  you  think  it  necessary,  Uncle,  when  you 
can  come  under  it  yourself?  "  asked  lo,  without 
parting  with  her  demureness. 

75 


TANGLED  UP  IN  BEULAH  LAND 

There  was  a  moment  or  two  in  which  we  ex- 
changed prim  morning  compliments,  rather  stately 
beside  the  conversation  from  which  I  had  just 
escaped,  and  then  the  Doctor  drove  us  all  in  to 
breakfast,  sans  ceremonie,  but  not  before  I  had  the 
opportunity  of  admiring  lo  with  some  reference 
to  particulars. 

I  am  afraid  my  appraisement  may  have  been 
somewhat  unjust,  as  it  was  certainly  inadequate  ; 
but  it  seemed  to  me,  as  I  felt  the  morning  im- 
pression made  by  the  handsome  girl,  that  Nature, 
in  bending  all  its  efforts  to  execute  a  chef  d'ceuvre 
of  physical  perfection,  must  have  overlooked  some 
other  essentials.  Experience  alone  teaches  a  man 
that  these  superb  examples  of  femininity  are 
generally  consummated  at  a  sacrifice  of  some 
internal  qualities.  Nature  never  tries  to  do  two 
things  at  once.  If  she  sets  out  to  make  a  be- 
wilderingly  lovely  woman,  she  seems  to  forget 
everything  else,  and  her  product  is  very  apt  to 
forget  everything  else  too.  I  found  myself  try- 
ing to  extricate  my  admiration  by  means  of  my 
reason.  What  is  it  such  external  perfection  lacks  ? 
It  must  lack  something  or  it  would  not  be  human  ; 
for  Nature,  that  succeeds  in  making  paragons, 
never  accomplishes  miracles. 

lo's  eyebrows  were  especially  coercive.  They 
were  insistent  parabolas  that  were  like  the  signa- 
ture of  the  great  artists,  a  finishing  flourish  of 
completeness,  as  if  the  last  curve  in  the  picture 
should  be  a  summary  of  all  the  others  —  occult 
Oriental  arches  sprung  over  mysterious  chambers, 

76 


THE   ROSE   BENCH 

that  turn  out  to  be  all  labyrinths,  hard  to  interpret, 
and  from  which  it  is  impossible  to  escape. 

I  noticed  that  she  dropped  the  lids  at  my  scru- 
tiny, as  if  I  were  an  archaeologist  who  was  familiar 
with  the  Sanscrit  of  beauty,  and  might  read  into 
the  hieroglyphs  their  true  meaning,  to  discover 
that  this  madonna  face  was  the  ever  recurring 
illusion. 

But,  bless  her  soul,  imbedded  as  it  was  in  so 
much  perfection  of  form  and  colour,  I  was  think- 
ing of  my  good  fortune  in  having  met  with  some- 
thing that  would  bring  my  young  prodigal's 
sensibilities  back  to  the  natural  path.  If  I  had 
possessed  the  true  Oriental  magic,  I  might  have 
called  into  existence,  for  my  own  fatherly  pur- 
poses, something  of  this  kind,  with  just  that  soft 
brown  hair,  always  restrained  a  little  this  side  of 
revelry,  and  that  mild,  wondering,  receptive  look 
of  bottomless  eyes,  and  that  half-luminous  white- 
ness of  neck  and  face.  I  might  not  have  accom- 
plished the  eyebrows,  for  they,  I  acknowledged, 
were  beyond  magic ;  but  here  it  was,  all  made  to 
order,  put  up  in  dainty  habiliments,  and  saying, 
"  Here  I  am ;  you  conjured  me  with  your  talis- 
manic  imagination  —  what  will  you  do  with  me  ?  " 

All  this  was  palpable  fate.  lo  had  looked  it. 
Charlie  and  I  had  plunged  toward  it,  as  dull  iron 
plunges  to  a  magnet.  Polly  had  perceived  it  with 
a  bobolink's  instinct,  just  as  a  bird  perceives  the 
approach  of  the  inevitable  spring  before  it  is  in 
sight. 

So  I  exulted  secretly,  as  a  fond,  conniving  father 

77 


TANGLED  UP  IN  BEULAH  LAND 

might,  saying  to  himself:  "  So,  so,  my  boy,  your 
city  hallucination  will  dog  us  to  the  edge  of  Eden 
with  blue  letters,  will  she  ?  You  refuse  to  burn 
your  bridges  behind  you,  do  you  ?  All  right,  my 
young  master.  Now  that  I  have  Aladdin's  lamp, 
we  shall  see,  you  handsome  and  overweening 
young  idiot ! " 

A  father  who  has  reason  and  foresight  and  affec- 
tion on  his  side  never  feels  quite  confident  until 
eyebrows  come  to  his  assistance. 

I  leave  out  the  Doctor's  exordium  on  breakfasts 
in  general,  and  my  own  vivid  remembrance  of 
that  breakfast  in  particular.  I  believe  he  said 
something  about  the  meal  needing  a  portico  of 
approach,  with  white  Hours,  like  the  ambulatory 
of  a  classic  temple.  One  must  come  up  the  steps 
in  the  morning  to  a  breakfast,  with  a  bevy  of  the 
Appetites  in  attendance,  as  if  going  to  a  festival 
with  obedient  nymphs. 

He  always  would  make  these  Icarian  flights  — 
how  well  I  remembered  them  of  old !  But  I 
noticed  that  his  jolly  household  held  it  to  be  a 
duty  to  melt  his  wings  with  indulgent  indifference. 
Mother  was  always  deliciously  malapropos,  and 
on  this  occasion  wanted  to  know  if  the  omelette 
was  just  right,  and  lo,  beautifully  recreant  to  her 
Athenian  origin,  spoke  of  Johnny-cake ;  and  my 
restrained  son  remarked,  with  what  I  thought  was 
an  inspiration  of  imbecility,  that  Johnny-cake  must 
be  a  souvenir  of  the  Civil  War — were  not  the  South- 
erners called  Johnnies  ?  Whereupon  Polly  put 
the  finishing  touch  on  this  episode  by  saying :  — 

78 


THE    ROSE    BENCH 

"  That  is  so  ;  and  the  Northern  soldiers  clutched 
after  the  cakes  so  voraciously  that  they  were 
called  '  Yanks.' ' 

At  which  everybody  laughed  except  Mother 
and  lo,  one  of  whom  was  not  nimble  enough  to 
follow  Polly's  impertinence,  and  the  other  of  whom 
did  not  include  hearty  laughs  in  her  stately  reper- 
tory. But  the  Doctor  descended  gracefully  to  his 
familiar  level :  — 

"  You  shall  enjoy  yourselves  this  morning  in 
your  own  way.  There  are  horses  if  your  city 
bones  are  not  too  brittle ;  and  if  they  are,  there 
are  vehicles.  You  shall  expend  your  exuberance 
in  flying  nowhither  joyously.  I  shall  leave  you 
to  the  tender  mercies  of  these  women,  and  may 
Heaven  have  pity  on  your  souls,  for  I  must  look 
after  the  men  in  the  fields  until  eleven  o'clock." 

"  We  have  made  our  programme,"  said  Polly. 
"  We  go  to  the  Swirl." 

"  We  ?  "  they  all  said  in  polyphonic  chorus. 

"  Yes,  we.     Eh,  Comrade  ?  " 

"  Polly,"  said  Mother,  "  try  and  restrain  your 
familiarity.  Our  guests  do  not  yet  understand 
you." 

"  Oh,  don't  mind  Bob,"  said  the  Doctor.  "  Our 
guests  will  have  other  fish  to  fry.  Bob's  all  right." 

"  What  did  I  tell  you  ?  "  said  Polly,  in  my  ear. 

"  Bob,"  I  whispered,  bending  down  to  let 
everybody  see  just  how  familiar  we  were,  "you 
are  a  witch.  Whatever  you  say,  I'll  swear  to." 


79 


CHAPTER  V 

THE    SWIRL 

O  Polly  and  I  went  out  together 
into  the  morning. 

The  dewy  brightness  of  it 
seemed  to  obliterate  the  distance 
that  years  had  placed  between  us. 
She  put  her  little  hand  in  mine 
on  the  stones  in  the  wet  meadow,  saying  that  she 
would  lead  me,  for  she  knew  them  all.  And  so, 
through  brambly  ways,  noisy  with  the  early  birds 
that  lent  their  trillets  to  every  spray  and  bending 
sweet  flag,  we  climbed  the  banks  and  waded 
through  the  blooms  into  aisles  of  old  trees,  ver- 
nally  groined  and  fretted  by  the  early  architect  of 
sunrise,  and  suddenly  stood  on  the  edge  of  the 
Swirl. 

Once,  in  that  unpremeditated  walk,  we  came 
upon  a  rug  woven  of  star  mosses  and  cryptoga- 
mous  threads  in  Persian  brightness,  and  spread  in 

80 


THE   SWIRL 

cushiony  pile  round  a  tulip  tree  that  canopied  it 
with  protective  sprawl,  and  I  turned  to  look  back 
at  the  American  chateau,  poking  its  dormers  and 
chimneys  out  of  the  near  green  perspective,  and 
tipped  here  and  there,  like  a  Damascus  kiosk,  with 
the  glittering  old  gold  of  the  morning. 

In  that  glancing  retrospect  I  must  have  given 
way  to  the  necromancy  of  it  impotently.  There 
lay  the  fairy  mansion,  softly  wrapped  in  the  illu- 
sion of  the  hour,  wholly  out  of  the  world  of  work- 
a-day  stress,  and  having  passed  its  portals  and 
seen  the  sleeping  beauty,  I  felt  like  the  tired 
worker  who  throws  himself  upon  a  couch  and 
gives  way  to  the  sweet  beguilement  of  his  own 
fancy. 

From  this  nepenthe  of  the  senses  I  was  whisked 
back  by  Polly  under  the  tulip  tree,  holding  her 
skirt  deftly  lifted,  her  buckled  shoes  almost  hid 
in  the  cushiony  rug. 

"  This  was  certainly  laid  to  be  danced  on,"  she 
said.  "  I  never  come  here  myself  without  feeling 
its  appeal  to  my  toes." 

And  with  that  she  began  to  pirouette,  her  gray 
stockings  twinkling  over  the  green  moss,  as  you 
may  have  seen  a  pair  of  butterflies  flit  and  flutter 
across  an  everglade. 

While  I  was  indulgently  regarding  this  pic- 
turesque impulse,  gone  off  like  a  cadenza  in  the 
middle  of  a  duet,  she  caught  me  by  the  hand  and 
pulled  me  upon  the  enchanted  tapestry,  saying, 
"  You  must  remember  some  steps  of  a  gavotte. 
It  goes  like  this,  doesn't  it?" 

81 


TANGLED  UP  IN  BEULAH  LAND 

Whereupon  she  began  to  whistle  some  kind  of 
a  quaint  improvised  air,  stepping  out  with  inimi- 
table mock  courtesy  and  I  handing  her  about 
with  an  impromptu  ceremoniousness,  that,  now  I 
think  of  it,  was  very  absurd. 

These  wayward  moments  are  lapses  into  a 
primitive  and  healthy  spontaneity,  and  I  suppose 
all  men  experience  at  some  time  the  delicious 
youthful  retrocession,  when  they  let  go  of  them- 
selves, and  sit  at  the  feet  of  Scheherezade  hours. 
The  filaments  that  lead  us  are  very  fine.  A  coup- 
let, a  stave  of  fugitive  music,  an  act  of  the  roman- 
tic play,  a  wandering  odour,  a  confidential  fairy  in 
a  chip  hat  and  buckled  shoes  —  and  away  we  go 
from  the  beaten  track,  into  the  old  labyrinths, 
sunny  and  tangled,  where  at  some  time  we 
sported  with  a  divine  listlessness. 

It  is  no  use  trying  to  outgrow  the  souvenirs  of 
the  heart.  They  are  not  hung  like  fading  pictures 
on  the  walls  of  our  memory.  They  are  imbedded 
like  fossils  in  the  crystal  tissues  of  our  lives,  and 
they  come  to  light  at  the  touch  of  passing  show- 
ers or  the  disintegrating  finger  of  time  itself.  But 
we  never  think  of  this  till  afterward,  when  the 
witch  light  has  gone  out,  and  the  stark  facts  of 
existence  look  at  us  from  the  shelves  where  we 
have  arranged  them. 

Such  an  improvised  picture  as  Polly  had  made 
was  as  fluctuant  as  the  images  on  a  running  stream. 
She  could  be  Bayadere  or  Maintenon  only  in 
flashes,  and  to  whistle  was  to  start  from  every 
pensile  branch  about  us  a  new  tumult  of  shrill 

82 


THE   SWIRL 

protest,  that  made  her  strike  an  attitude  of  frolic- 
some astonishment  and  put  her  hand  over  her 
mouth  as  if  she  had  tumbled  inadvertently  in 
among  all  the  strings  of  the  outdoor  instrument. 
We  both  drew  ourselves  up  into  laughing  statues, 
and  then  went  on  to  the  Swirl. 

By  this  time  Polly  had  prepared  my  indolence 
to  accept  any  illusion  at  her  sportive  beck. 
She  had  but  to  crook  her  arm  or  toss  her  head, 
and  it  should  be  Helicon  or  the  Fountain  of 
Youth.  It  is  so  comfortable  to  give  over  your 
volition  and  be  wafted  by  Caprice. 

But  no  perennial  river  of  song  in  Macedonia 
or  in  the  mirage  that  beckoned  to  Ponce  de 
Leon  could,  I  feel  sure,  so  outleap  the  fancies 
with  affluent  reality  as  did  the  Juniata  at  the 
Swirl.  Of  all  the  capers  of  the  protean  stream 
none  could  be  so  whelmingly  sleek  and  copious 
as  this.  It  came  sinuously  through  slanting 
meadows,  roistering  over  stones,  to  a  great  deep 
pool,  and  then,  pouring  over  the  ledge  that  could 
not  restrain  it,  turned  in  a  short  curve  and  came 
smoothly  and  silently  down  to  us  in  a  great,  glassy, 
sherry-brown  volume,  scarcely  broken  by  a  ripple 
and  flecked  only  by  spots  of  foam,  holding  its 
breath,  as  one  might  say,  as  it  slid  between  the 
limestone  sluiceway  to  break  out  exulting  in  the 
wider  pool  below  with  sudden  and  pleasant  glee. 
A  little  distance  up  the  bank,  at  the  first  pool, 
there  was  a  summer  house,  pagoda-fashioned,  so 
close  to  the  water  that  its  lattices  were  duplicated 
below ;  and  when  I  expressed  some  surprise  at 


TANGLED  UP  IN  BEULAH  LAND 

finding  it  so  conveniently  poised  over  the  still 
waters,  not  unlike  a  heron  with  its  wings  folded, 
Polly  informed  me  that  it  was  a  bath-house,  and 
I  learned  that  the  nymphs,  here  partly  disrobed, 
and  flinging  themselves  into  the  little  lake,  went 
unresistingly  over  the  spillway  into  the  sliding 
stream,  and  down  the  sluice,  to  be  tossed  into  the 
foam  below,  where,  I  could  easily  imagine,  there 
would  be  much  flashing  of  white  limbs  in  "  dolphin 
tumults  "  mingled  with  blithe  laughter. 

It  was  there  at  the  Swirl  that  I  began  the 
most  extraordinary  flirtation  of  my  life.  Extraor- 
dinary in  that  it  was  divested  of  all  the  dangers 
that  usually  accompany  such  a  performance. 
Polly  seemed  bent  on  presenting  to  me  her 
volatile  nature  in  its  entirety,  and  managing  with 
rare  unconsciousness  to  identify  it  with  the  as- 
pects of  vernal  nature  around  her.  But  I  felt 
the  protection  of  a  certain  incongruity  in  it, 
and  thought  there  was  no  more  danger  of  my 
falling  in  love  with  her  at  my  age  than  of  falling 
into  the  Juniata  upon  whose  grassy  banks  we  sat 
and  discoursed,  and  had  either  accident  happened, 
I  should  probably  have  regained  my  footing,  and, 
after  shaking  myself  as  became  an  experienced 
man  of  the  world,  would  have  gone  back  from 
the  episode  to  my  tramway  of  propriety.  But, 
nevertheless,  I  was  wheedled  into  a  pleasant  admira- 
tion of  the  unceremonious  and  ingenuous  girl, 
that  may  have  been  as  aesthetic  as  it  is  possible 
for  one's  emotions  to  become  without  quite  ar- 
riving at  the  voluptuous. 

84 


THE   SWIRL 

We  sat  there  on  the  step  of  the  rustic  pagoda, 
and  as  she  chattered  aimlessly  but  interestingly, 
I  wondered  if  the  charm  of  sprightliness  and 
guilelessness  would  make  the  same  appeal  to  an 
inexperienced  young  man  that  it  did  to  me. 

One  gives  way  supinely  to  an  authority  of 
graciousness,  especially  when  it  is  sportive.  This 
minx  had  had  her  own  way  without  protest.  My 
own  plans,  whatever  they  were,  had  somehow 
been  softly  superseded.  I  had  promised  myself 
a  confidential  consultation  with  the  Doctor,  and 
there  I  was  whipped  off  at  the  start  most  aimlessly, 
sitting  on  the  bank  with  new  and  unexpected 
confidences  opening  to  me,  as  my  companion 
threw  buttercups  into  the  stream  to  see  them 
glide  away  like  receding  spots  of  sunshine. 

But  why  should  I  hesitate  to  declare  that  the 
way  of  a  man  of  fifty  with  a  maid  differs  widely 
from  the  way  of  a  man  of  nineteen.  It  is  gen- 
erally held  by  the  world  (and  universally  acted 
upon  by  the  maids  themselves,  I  believe)  that  the 
man  of  fifty  is  altogether  more  susceptible ;  and, 
while  I  am  not  prepared  to  deny  it,  I  shall  insist 
to  my  latest  breath  that  the  man  of  fifty  keeps 
one  eye  open  on  his  own  susceptibility,  which  the 
man  of  nineteen  never  does. 

What,  I  asked  myself,  in  a  running  aside,  as  I 
watched  the  buttercups  one  after  the  other  go  the 
same  way  and  lose  themselves  in  the  voiceless 
torrent,  —  what  is  the  way  of  a  maid  with  a  man 
of  fifty  ?  Why  should  she  make  it  apparent  that 
she  had  gone  out  of  her  way  to  touch  my  suscep- 

8s ' 


TANGLED  UP  IN  BEULAH  LAND 

tibilities  ?  Why  should  she  insist  on  going  off 
with  me  before  I  was  fairly  domiciled,  and  danc- 
ing a  gavotte  with  me  before  the  dew  was  off. 
Were  there  no  beds  to  make  or  rooms  to  be 
aired  ?  Was  it  part  of  the  understood  policy  of 
the  establishment  to  beguile  the  fathers  who  had 
sons,  so  that  the  Princess  would  be  undisturbed 
in  her  fascinating  ? 

I  think  Polly  had  an  instinctive  sense  that  a 
man  of  my  age  was  liable  to  consider,  for  she  had 
a  way  of  darting  in  and  out  of  the  conversation  as 
if  she  wished  to  prevent  it,  and  even  a  man  of 
fifty,  thus  warned,  feels  that  it  is  somewhat  im- 
pertinent to  consider,  —  very  much,  in  fact,  it 
appears  at  such  times,  like  analyzing  a  woman's 
dress. 

"  Well,"  she  said  suddenly,  "  we  are  not  going 
to  sit  here  all  the  morning,  are  we  ? " 

I  think  she  felt  that  she  was  better  protected 
when  she  was  in  motion.  So  up  she  jumps  with 
a  pretty  little  impatience. 

"  There's  the  neighbourhood,  you  know.  Aren't 
you  interested  in  the  place  ?  " 

"Are  there  then  really  neighbours  ?  "   I  asked. 

"  Heaps,"  she  replied,  following  it  with  a  quick 
look  as  if  she  might  have  inadvertently  dropped 
a  clew  of  patois. 

"  I  mean  lots,"  she  added. 

"  Lots  ? "  I  repeated,  trying  to  fix  the  word  to 
its  proper  geographical  origin. 

"  Well,  piles." 

And  having  heaped  each  absurd  colloquialism 
86 


THE   SWIRL 

on  the  other,  she  fell  to  laughing  at  my  inability 
to  sort  them. 

"  I  suppose,"  she  said,  "  you  thought  we  kept 
neighbours  off  with  acres.  I  suppose  the  Doctor 
did  intend  to,  but  it  doesn't  work.  When  I  first 
came  here  I  felt  just  as  you  do.  I  used  to  look 
out  my  window  in  the  morning  and  scream  for 
Boylston  to  come  and  do  something  human,  and 
he  often  came  and  performed  on  the  hoe  or  a 
wheelbarrow  just  to  relieve  my  mind.  So  much 
Nature  was  like  those  hideous  hoop-skirts  the 
women  used  to  wear,  it  kept  everybody  at  arms' 
length.  But,  dear  me,  I  soon  found  out  what  a 
goose  I  was.  There  are  neighbours  hiding  in  all 
the  woods  and  hills.  Over  near  the  Clove  there's 
the  Big  Game  Hunting  Club  from  New  York. 
Up  on  the  slope  of  the  Black  Log  spur  there's 
the  Juniata  Valley  Camp.  Then  there's  the  Phila- 
delphia Trout  Club's  house  on  the  Sprawl.  Are 
you  good  at  walking?  because,  if  you  are,  I'm  going 
to  ask  you  to  climb  the  side  of  the  Clove  some 
day  with  me,  just  to  smell  the  rose  fields  in  Perry 
County  when  the  wind  is  sou'-sou'east.  You'd 
think  there  wasn't  a  man  within  gunshot,  wouldn't 
you  —  I  mean  an  eligible  man." 

"  Yes,  I  was  falling  into  that  pleasing  fantasy  — 
or  perhaps  it  was  a  hope  that  the  country  produced 
nothing  but  girls.  It  would  certainly  be  more 
consistent  on  the  part  of  the  country." 

She  slipped  her  arm  into  mine,  and  as  we 
walked  along  the  bank  of  the  stream  imparted  a 
secret. 

87 


TANGLED  UP  IN  BEULAH  LAND 

"  I'll  tell  you  something  mysterious,"  she  said, 
"  if  you  will  promise  not  to  mention  it." 

"  On  my  sacred  word  and  honour,"   I  replied. 

"  lo  has  the  power  of  conjuring  men  out  of 
the  earth.  It's  the  funniest  thing  you  ever  saw. 
When  we  go  off  for  a  gallop  together  along  the 
Tuskaloo  Pike,  they  rise  out  of  the  ground  in 
knickerbockers  and  slip  out  of  the  woods  in  hunt- 
ing jackets,  and  come  tearing  along  on  horseback 
with  their  hats  in  their  hands.  I  have  tried  it 
alone  in  all  kinds  of  ribbons,  and  whistled  and 
yodled,  but  not  a  man  turned  up.  Why,  some- 
times there  are  so  many  horses  hitched  at  our 
fence  that  people  must  think  there's  a  vendue." 

Then  my  Mistress  Caprice  fell  to  laughing,  and 
having  renewed  her  breath  by  that  operation,  went 
on :  — 

"  When  the  Keystone  State  Trout  Club  built 
their  bungalow  they  made  the  Doctor  honorary 
member,  and  when  the  big  game  fellows  had  their 
park  and  club-house  finished,  they  met  lo  on  the 
road  one  day,  and  then  they  stopped  fishing  and 
put  in  a  grand  piano  and  a  harp  and  mandolins 
and  things,  and  then  wanted  the  Doctor  to  become 
one  of  the  directors,  and  sent  a  deputation  in  fine 
clothes  to  wait  on  him  and  ask  him  if  he  had  any- 
body who  knew  anything  about  pianos.  Now, 
if  there  is  anything  the  Doctor  hates,  it's  sport. 
He  hates  it  almost  as  much  as  he  does  subterfuge." 

"  What  did  the  Doctor  say  to  the  disinterested 
request  ?  " 

"He  just  said,  *  Tush,  tush,  boys/  and  went 


THE   SWIRL 

on  smoking  his  brier-wood  pipe.  Don't  you  want 
to  smoke?  Gentlemen  usually  do  when  they  walk, 
and  they  seem  to  be  more  at  ease  when  they  do." 

"  That  is  heaven's  truth,  Bob,  but  I  came  off 
without  my  cigar  case." 

"  Wait  a  moment.  I  took  one  of  the  cigars  as 
I  came  out  of  the  hall.  I  suppose  I've  smashed 
it  all  to  smithereens.  No.  Here  it  is,"  produc- 
ing the  article  from  a  little  pocket,  along  with  a 
square  pad  of  handkerchief,  two  or  three  curl 
papers,  and  some  half-melted  peppermints. 

"  Of  course  you  haven't  a  match.  Let  me  light 
it." 

"  Wait  a  moment,"  I  said,  "  till  I  get  the  pepper- 
mint off." 

And  then  up  went  one  buckled  shoe,  a  little 
detonation  on  the  sole  of  it,  and  she  was  holding 
the  match  to  the  cigar  in  my  mouth,  while  I  made 
stertorous  efforts  to  do  my  part,  and  noticed  what 
a  pretty  little  hand  she  had,  and  how  daintily  her 
little  finger  stood  out  like  the  curlicue  at  the  end 
of  a  girl's  signature. 

"  Now  you  feel  more  comfortable,  don't  you  ?  " 

"  Bob,"  I  said,  "  if  you  don't  supervise  it  too 
much,  my  comfort  will  just  amble  along  disinterest- 
edly like  yours." 

At  that  she  drew  in  her  under  lip  quickly  and 
looked  up.  She  was  trying  to  catch  the  exact 
import  of  my  remark,  and  drew  her  arm  away, 
saying :  — 

"  I'm  too  familiar  on  short  acquaintance.  I 
know  it,  and  it  isn't  becoming." 

89 


TANGLED  UP  IN  BEULAH  LAND 

"On  the  contrary,  it  is  one  of  the  several  delight- 
ful things  that  I  admire  in  you,"  I  said,  replacing 
her  arm.  "  I  especially  like  a  girl  who  knows 
how  to  whistle  a  gavotte.  I'll  wager  she  is  old- 
fashioned  enough  to  say  her  prayers  and  eat  rasp- 
berry jam  on  bread,  and  sing  Auber  and  Donizetti 
without  a  shrink.  Do  you  know,  your  familiarity 
puts  me  in  mind  of  sweetbriar  in  an  antique  vase. 
It  always  seems  to  be  trying  to  get  out  and  can't." 

"  Usually  it  is  so  tedious,  when  one  is  making 
the  first  visit,  to  get  to  be  sociable,"  she  remarked. 
"  It's  like  going  to  hear  a  brilliant  preacher  and 
have  to  undergo  a  tedious  service  first.  You  sing 
standing  up,  and  then  you  sing  sitting  down,  and 
then  somebody  offers  you  part  of  his  hymn-book, 
and  you  hold  fast  to  it  and  keep  your  mouth  shut 
for  fear  he  will  smell  the  peppermint." 

"  Well,  Bob,"  I  said  with  a  laugh,  "  I  have  to 
thank  you  for  coming  at  the  sermon  directly. 
Hav'n't  you  noticed  how  completely  I  have 
avoided  the  bashfulness  and  awkwardness  that 
usually  make  men  of  my  age  so  formal  and  stiff?  " 

"  You  wouldn't  like  to  run  me  a  race  to  those 
hayricks,  would  you,  just  for  the  fun  of  it  ? " 

"  No,"  I  said,  after  considering  the  proposi- 
tion. "  If  some  of  the  field  hands  or  sportsmen 
should  see  me  chasing  you,  they  might  shoot  me 
before  the  situation  was  explained." 

It  must  have  been  an  hour  or  two  later  when 
we  came  suddenly  upon  the  little  river  again,  now 
brawling  with  shallow  merriment  over  a  sandy 
bar,  between  green,  sloping  banks,  dotted  here  and 

90 


THE    SWIRL 

there  on  the  other  side  with  sleek,  sleepy  cows  that 
regarded  us  with  an  almost  cultivated  superiority. 
Across  the  dry  meadow  and  in  among  the  alders 
and  gums  there  glinted  the  white  clapboards  of  a 
house.  Polly  was  suddenly  seized  with  an  irre- 
pressible desire  to  be  on  the  other  side.  She  was 
sure  lo  and  Charlie,  if  they  had  gone  off  for  a 
gallop,  would  stop  at  the  Lodge,  as  she  called  it. 

"  Dear  me,"  she  said,  "  why  didn't  we  cross  at 
the  bridge  two  miles  below,  and  come  up  on  the 
other  side  ?  Would  you  mind  wading  over  ?  I 
don't  think  anything  of  it.  It  isn't  over  one's 
ankles.  Of  course  it's  perfectly  ridiculous  —  men 
at  your  age  don't  wade." 

I  listened  to  this  challenge  with  such  mature 
bravado  as  I  could  summon.  Had  I  been  young, 
and  not  yet  beyond  the  habitual  idiocy  of  wading 
and  climbing  and  sprinting  with  no  conceivable 
purpose,  I  should  no  doubt  have  disdainfully 
laughed  at  her  proposal  as  an  altogether  superflu- 
ous test  of  acknowledged  hardihood.  But  a  man 
at  my  age  has  to  reckon  with  a  mature  vanity  that 
cannot  be  trifled  with,  and  be  ready  to  authenticate 
his  perennial  youth  and  brawn  at  the  slightest 
provocation. 

"  Bob,"  I  said,  "  why  should  we  both  wade, 
when  I  can  carry  you  over  ? " 

Such  a  self-confident  assertion  I  felt  sure  would 
quench  her  recklessness  effectually.  To  my  sur- 
prise she  said  promptly  :  — 

"Will  you?" 

I  sat  down  on  the  grass  and  began  untying  my 

91 


TANGLED  UP  IN  BEULAH  LAND 

heavy  shoes,  and  getting  my  trousers  rolled  up. 
"  I  certainly  will,"  I  said,  "  unless  you  escape 
me." 

She  was  poised  on  one  foot  not  ten  feet  away, 
in  involuntary  suspense  between  flight  and  aston- 
ishment—  a  fine  feminine  astonishment  that  any- 
body could  have  the  hardihood  to  take  her  at  her 
word. 

"  I'm  heavier  than  you  think,"  she  said. 

"  Perhaps,"  I  replied,  with  grim  complacency, 
as  I  looked  at  my  stockinged  feet.  "  But  I  am 
stronger  than  you  imagine." 

She  was  a  gamey  girl,  after  all.  She  let  me 
pick  her  up  in  my  two  arms,  and  I  walked  into 
the  water,  carrying  her  nurse  fashion,  her  little 
buckled  shoes  hanging  down  pendulously.  The 
stretch  of  shallows  was  only  thirty-five  or  forty 
feet  wide,  a  clear,  sandy  reach,  with  a  ten  or 
twelve  inch  film  of  sweet  water  racing  over  it ;  and 
if  I  did  not  step  into  a  hole,  or  run  a  flint  through 
my  foot,  I  would  deposit  my  burden  on  the  oppo- 
site bank  as  triumphantly  indifferent  as  if  my  life 
had  been  in  training  for  it.  But  before  I  was 
half-way  across  I  became  aware  that  my  burden 
was  quite  a  hundred  and  thirty-five  pounds  avoir- 
dupois, and  I  was  wondering  to  myself  where 
these  airy  creatures  hide  all  their  solidity,  when 
she  said :  — 

"  What  do  you  suppose  people  would  think  if 
they  saw  you  carrying  me  about  the  country  in 
this  fashion  ?  " 

"If  you  don't  keep  still,"  I  panted,  "I'll  drop 
92 


THE   SWIRL 

you  in  the  middle  of  the  stream.  This  is  getting 
serious." 

And  at  that  her  free  arm  went  round  my  neck, 
rather  tightly  I  thought. 

"  You  can't,"  she  cried.  "  I'm  going  to  hang 
on  to  you  like  grim  death.  Heavens  —  wait  a 
moment." 

"  What's  the  matter  ?  " 

"  You  are  not  a  Baptist  preacher,  are  you  ? " 

"  No  ;  but  I  will  be  if  you  don't  keep  still." 

"  I  am  trying  to  make  myself  light." 

"  That's  all  right.  But  when  I  am  trying  to 
get  you  over  one  shallow  stream,  it  isn't  fair  to  add 
another.  Besides,  you  are  choking  me." 

"  What  do  you  suppose  Charlie  would  say," 
she  continued,  "  and  I  haven't  known  you  twenty- 
four  hours.  Don't  you  think  you  had  better  take 
me  back  again  ?  it's  becoming  awfully  scandalous." 

Then  she  gurgled,  or  perhaps  it  was  the  water 
running  through  my  ankles.  I  did  not  at  the 
moment  stop  to  investigate  it  closely.  There 
were  ten  feet  more  of  wading  to  do,  and,  as  I 
stepped  out  for  the  bank,  Charlie  and  lo  rode 
soberly  out  of  the  trees,  and  drew  up  in  very 
allowable  astonishment  at  the  spectacle. 

lo's  first  impression  was  that  Polly  was  drowned, 
and  that  I  was  dragging  her  ashore  like  a  retriever, 
so  the  beauty  gave  a  shrill  gasp ;  but  when  I  had 
set  my  burden  down  on  the  bank,  it  jumped  to 
its  feet  and  declared  that  it  was  as  dry  as  the 
Doctor's  best  wine,  to  which  I  could  only  add 
exultingly,  "  and  just  as  full  of  life." 

93 


TANGLED  UP  IN  BEULAH  LAND 

This  was  literally  true,  and  all  the  more  obvious 
just  at  that  moment,  for  the  reason  that  the  two 
equestrians  were  doing  the  dismally  formal  and  ex- 
emplary polite,  as  if  in  mortal  dread  of  each  other, 
while  I  had  just  had  Polly's  arm  around  my  neck. 

When  my  entirely  proper  son  had  somewhat 
recovered  from  the  astonishment  that  the  parental 
bare  legs  had  occasioned,  he  slipped  off  his  horse, 
and  pulling  me  aside,  said :  — 

"  Look  here,  Dad,  for  a  man  that  lays  some 
claim  to  gout,  isn't  this  rather  foolhardy  business  ? 
I  don't  want  you  to  die  on  my  hands  down  here." 

"  Don't  be  a  fastidious  ninny,"  I  said,  "  but 
ride  over  there  and  bring  my  shoes  across.  Mean- 
while I'll  go  and  dance  in  that  warm  grass,  and 
dry  myself.  Come  on,  Bob,  how  does  that  ga- 
votte go  ? " 

The  charm  of  such  a  girl  as  Polly  is  that  you 
never  have  to  explain  anything,  much  less  excuse 
anything ;  and  I  now  recall  the  picture  of  Charlie 
standing  by  the  mounted  lo,  with  one  hand  on 
the  saddle  and  the  other  holding  my  shoes,  as 
he  and  his  companion  looked  pensively  over  to 
the  hot  clover,  where  Polly  and  I  were  trying 
to  execute  a  wild  minuet,  she  whistling  like  a 
meadow  thrush. 

If  age  has  its  tender  retrospects,  why  deny  to 
youth  and  hot  blood  its  tender  perspectives,  and 
the  privilege  of  saying  to  itself,  "  Oh,  for  the  far- 
away times  when  we  can  be  old  and  gay  without 
bothering,  and  the  skies  will  be  bluer  than  they 
ever  were  before." 

94 


THE   SWIRL 

• 

It  was  evident  enough  that  lo  looked  upon  the 
performance  with  much  less  concern  than  did 
Charlie.  She  sat  her  horse  with  the  constant 
responsibility  of  being  carved  to  do  it.  A  sus- 
picion stole  over  me  then  for  the  first  time  that 
for  her  to  be  deeply  interested  in  anything  would 
disturb  her  beauty. 

They  both  watched  us  a  few  moments  with 
indulgent  composure,  and  then  Polly  told  them 
that  they  need  not  wait  —  we  were  going  on  to 
the  Lodge.  She  even  added  that  we  might  be 
back  to  dinner  if  nothing  happened.  They  rode 
away  with  much  dignity,  Charlie  looking  back 
several  times  as  if  there  were  some  doubts  in  his 
mind  as  to  who  had  the  best  of  it. 

After  that  incident  Polly  and  I  were  on  a  new 
footing  of  intimacy.  I  suppose  that  this  kind  of 
acquaintanceship  has  its  first  kiss,  like  young  love, 
and  then  things  get  along  with  a  tacit  understand- 
ing. We  went  to  the  Lodge,  so  called  on  account 
of  the  wigwam  that  had  preceded  it  in  colonial 
history.  There  we  obtained  bowls  of  yellow  milk 
with  chunks  of  apple  pie  in  it,  for  tiffin,  and,  sit- 
ting on  a  wooden  bench,  Polly  and  I  ate  our 
lunch  as  children  do  porridge,  that  is,  with  the 
savage  zest  of  hunger,  and  she  said :  — 

"  I  know  what  you  are  thinking  about.  You 
are  pitying  the  man  who  will  have  to  carry  me 
for  keeps." 

"  Now  you  mention  it,"  I  replied,  "  it  will  be 
a  task  if  you  always  want  to  get  on  the  other  side 
of  things.  I  fancy  the  man  who  undertakes  it 

95 


TANGLED  UP  IN  BEULAH  LAND 

will  be  like  that  devotee  who  is  always  singing, 
'  There  is  one  wide  river  to  cross.' ' 

"  Oh,  that's  the  Jordan.  It  wouldn't  be  such 
a  bugaboo  if  there  were  men  like  you  about  to 
carry  folks  over.  I  suppose  you  think  I  am  a 
very  disagreeable  person  by  this  time." 

"  I  haven't  quite  made  up  my  mind.  And  yet, 
I  feel  quite  confident  that  you  are  not  such  a 
difficult  person  to  carry." 

"  But  I  am  not  so  light  as  you  thought  me." 

"  Oh,  a  mere  featherweight  to  a  man  of  reso- 
lution, and  then  your  conversation  always  relieves 
your  specific  gravity." 

"  Oh,  I  can  be  serious  and  painful  and  mean 
like  other  people.  You  don't  know  me.  I  hope 
you  don't  think  I  would  act  so  recklessly  with  a 
young  man." 

"  My  dear,"  I  said,  "  you  are  over  confident. 
You  never  can  tell  from  appearances  just  how 
young  a  man  is.  Some  men  conceal  their  youth 
till  they  come  to  a  river." 

"  Don't  say  that.  Somehow  I  thought  that 
you  were  a  man  with  whom  it  wasn't  necessary 
to  be  careful  and  laced  up,  and  it  was  such  a 
luxury  to  meet  a  man  who  was  without  any  perils, 
—  who  could  eat  milk  and  pie  as  you  do.  Wait 
a  moment,  and  I  will  get  you  a  napkin." 

Dear  little  midge,  she  vanished  a  moment, 
came  back  with  a  towel  that  she  tucked  into  my 
shirt  front,  and  then  stood  off  to  look  at  it  as  if  it 
were  a  study  in  still  life,  and  clapped  her  hands, 
and  said :  — 


THE   SWIRL 

"  You  ought  to  have  somebody  to  keep  an  eye 
on  you  all  the  time  —  fancy  a  man  dropping 
milk  on  his  coat  like  that,  when  he  is  talking 
earnestly." 

"  To  have  an  eye  on  you  " —  and  such  an  eye  — 
is,  I  suppose,  one  of  the  vain  ideals  of  a  mature 
life.  And  if  the  eye  isn't  literally  on  you  all 
the  time,  to  feel  that  it  is  somewhere  in  the  im- 
mediate vicinity,  liable  to  light  on  you  suddenly 
and  straighten  out  things,  must  be  one  of  the 
premonitions  of  dotage.  I  wonder  if  it  is. 

The  world  is  basely  ignorant  of  the  noble 
virtues  of  dotage.  It  mistakes  the  last  develop- 
ment of  sensibility  for  sentimentalism  and  over- 
grown selfishness.  But  the  first  shoots  of  the 
grandfather  instinct  in  a  man  are  quite  as  beauti- 
ful in  their  way  as  are  the  first  shoots  of  maternity 
in  a  woman,  and  altogether  less  selfish.  The 
next  time  you  get  the  chance,  watch  the  old  man 
with  his  first  grandchild,  and  compare  his  tender 
solicitude  and  wholly  disinterested  self-sacrifice 
with  his  earlier  parental  conduct,  when  he  was 
presented  with  a  child  of  his  own.  I  think  you 
will  recall  his  airs  of  proprietorship  and  seventy 
of  fatherhood  as  something  preposterous  and  over- 
weening by  the  side  of  his  later  gentleness  and 
love  for  what  is  another's. 

But  to  return  to  our  milk  and  pie. 

"  Bob,"  I  said,  wiping  my  mouth  with  the  end 
of  the  towel,  "  you  are  a  jolly  good  girl,  and 
whenever  you  find  a  man  strong  enough  to  carry 
you  over  without  complaining,  I  want  to  be  on 

97 


TANGLED  UP  IN  BEULAH  LAND 

the  bank  and  dance  a  gavotte  with  you  before 
you  get  your  arm  round  his  neck  for  keeps." 

"  That's  very  nice,"  she  exclaimed,  "  and  I'd 
be  pretty  sure  to  get  the  other  arm  around  your 
neck.  But  you  mean  marriage,  and  I  am  the 
traditional  church  mouse  and  must  work  for  my 
living.  Nobody  will  want  to  carry  me  around." 

"  You  speak  as  if  working  for  your  living  were 
a  disgrace." 

"  Yes,  I  have  found  that  some  persons  think 
so.  I  didn't  know  it  before." 

"  They  must  be  very  narrow  and  bigoted  per- 
sons. All  labour  is  worthy  in  the  worthy  worker." 

"  It's  awfully  good  of  you  to  say  that.  It 
sounds  so  fatherly.  I'll  try  and  remember  it. — 
There  comes  Boylston  with  a  team." 

"  Do  you  suppose  he  is  coming  for  us  ?  " 

"  Sure.  Charlie  did  not  know  what  would 
happen  to  you  if  he  left  you  alone  with  me  too 
long." 

"  He  is  right,"  I  said,  as  I  got  up.  "  I  don't 
know  myself." 


CHAPTER  VI 

THE    SECESSION    OF    POLLY 

O  be  privileged  guests  in  the  house 
of  a  loved  friend  is  the  surest  eman- 
cipation we  can  ever  enjoy  in  this 
life  from  the  innumerable  burdens 
of  life  itself.  Nothing  comes  so 
near  to  shuffling  off  the  mortal 
coils  and  cares,  without  abandoning  the  senses. 

The  world  of  duty  is  just  now  praising  the  nobility 
of  service,  and  very  rightly  too.  But  to  some  of 
us,  now  and  then,  there  come  times  when  the  ser- 
vice stops  for  a  while  and  we  are  served.  These 
are  the  spots  in  our  worrying  lives  where  we  rest, 
and  say  to  ourselves  with  transient  delight,  "  Are 
they  not  all  ministering  spirits  ?  " 

The  Doctor's  spacious  establishment,  so  majes- 
tically curtained  from  the  world  by  Nature  herself, 
seemed  to  have  been  put  at  our  disposal.  He  had 
drawn  the  mountains  round  about  him  and  sat 

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TANGLED  UP  IN  BEULAH  LAND 

down  to  pleasant  dreams.  But  there  were  no 
secrets  about  it,  no  privacies,  and,  best  of  all,  no 
mysteries,  unless  we  brought  them  with  us.  The 
broad  hospitality  of  the  place,  like  the  smiling 
candour  of  his  handsome  old  face,  had  the  continual 
air  of  open  arms,  and  seemed  to  be  saying,  "  Do 
as  you  please.  It  will  be  entirely  safe,  only  don't 
bother." 

I  sat  in  his  spacious  library  one  night,  shortly 
after  our  arrival.  The  doors  were  shut  and  the 
windows  were  open.  He  had  stretched  himself 
on  a  lounge.  We  could  hear  the  softened  voices 
of  youth  at  the  other  end  of  the  house  singing 
some  of  the  old  war  songs,  and  the  notes  of  the 
piano  tinkled  in  between.  We  were  farther  away 
from  their  thoughts  than  the  length  of  the  house. 

"  So  your  solitary  scion  is  beginning  to  worry 
you,"  said  the  Doctor. 

"  No,  no,"  I  said.  "  I  have  not  lost  any  sleep. 
He  has  amused  me  by  falling  into  the  inevitable 
nonsense  of  immaturity.  If  I  did  not  feel  able  to 
pull  him  out,  I  should  ask  you  for  a  sedative." 

"  Let's  come  at  it  directly,"  said  the  Doctor. 
"  That's  the  best  way,  seeing  that  you  have  asked 
my  advice.  You  are  anxious  to  marry  him  off 
with  your  prudence,  instead  of  letting  him  marry 
himself  off  with  his  impulses.  In  other  words,  you 
have  come  to  be  a  damned  old  match-making 
dotard,  and  cannot  let  things  take  their  course." 

"  Oh,  pardon  me,  you  are  heaping  too  much  dis- 
tinction on  me,  to  say  nothing  of  expletives." 

"  Distinction  ?    Great  Scott,  don't  flatter  your- 

IOO 


THE   SECESSION    OF    POLLY 

self.  I  am  getting  to  be  the  same  sort  of  a  dotard 
myself.  It  is  one  of  the  discouragements  of  life, 
that  when  you  give  over  worrying  about  marrying 
yourself,  you  must  begin  to  worry  about  getting 
other  people  married.  You  have  a  nuisance,  I 
speak  physiologically,  that  has  to  be  abated  by 
natural  means.  So  have  I.  Yours  is  masculine, 
or  will  be  in  time.  Mine  is  feminine,  which,  so 
far  as  responsibility  goes,  is  a  distinction  without 
a  difference.  Perhaps  if  we  could  consolidate  the 
two  idiocies,  they  might  have  strength  enough 
between  them  to  walk  off  and  relieve  us  both." 

"  Are  you  speaking  of  lo  ?  "  I  asked,  with  gen- 
uine surprise. 

"  I'll  tell  you,"  he  said.  "  I  have  clung  tena- 
ciously all  my  life  to  the  theory  that  these  things 
regulate  themselves  much  better  than  we  can  regu- 
late them.  Now,  I  have  arrived  at  a  point  of 
dotage  where  I  must  abandon  my  theory  and 
begin  to  do  a  little  regulating  myself.  That  girl 
is  part  of  the  estate.  My  sister  there  is  respon- 
sible for  her.  That  is  to  say,  the  original  respon- 
sibility was  hers,  and  she  bore  it  with  the  usual 
feminine  ignorance  of  consequences.  When  this 
thousand  acres  fell  to  her  from  her  husband,  she 
became  a  little  involved,  naturally  enough  for  a 
woman  whose  kindly  disposition  was  better  able 
to  manage  aches  than  acres,  and,  as  you  probably 
know,  when  I  was  ready  to  retire,  I  pulled  her 
out  by  buying  a  half-interest  and  taking  the  whole 
tract  on  my  shoulders.  You  see,  her  half-interest 
will  go  to  the  girl,  and  as  neither  I  nor  my  sister 

101 


TANGLED    UP   IN    BEULAH    LAND 

can  reasonably  expect  to  keep  up  this  jog  trot 
many  more  years,  and  I  have  put  in  about  twenty- 
five  thousand  dollars,  I  am  naturally  a  little  anx- 
ious to  see  the  concern  fall  into  hands  that  will 
carry  out  my  plans." 

"  And  have  you  any  misgivings  as  to  Miss  lo's 
desire  or  ability  to  go  on  with  your  work.  She 
appears  to  be  a  young  woman  of  much  character 
and  promise." 

"  Now,  see  here ;  lo  is  an  estimable  blossom, 
as  girls  go,  but  I  do  not  have  to  tell  you  that  a 
woman  of  her  make-up  isn't  built  to  have  her  own 
way,  even  if  by  any  possibility  a  way  should  be 
prepared  for  her.  Her  mission  in  life  is  to  attract 
a  stronger  will  than  her  own,  and  then  submit  to 
it.  Ordinarily  this  would  be  none  of  my  busi- 
ness, but  as  she  is  a  residuary  legatee,  I  find  I  am 
becoming,  on  business  principles,  an  infernal  old 
match-maker  myself." 

"  Yes,  I  see.  May  I  ask  if  there  are  any  indi- 
cations that  the  legatee  is  thinking  of  bringing  a 
partner  into  the  concern  ?  " 

The  Doctor, who  had  been  lying  at  full  length, sat 
up  and,  resting  his  fore  arms  on  his  knees,  leaned 
toward  me  with  a  new  and  confidential  earnestness, 
at  the  same  time  softening  the  tones  of  his  voice. 

"  lo,"  said  he,  "  is  a  fine  girl,  as  the  phrase 
goes,  but  she  has  no  initiative  and  no  resisting 
power.  Some  day  the  executive  will,  disguised  in 
sentiment,  will  turn  up  and  inform  her  what  her 
destiny  is,  and  she  will  accept  it  as  gospel  truth 
without  any  guarantee." 

102 


THE   SECESSION    OF    POLLY 

"  And  you  are  desirous  of  preventing  it  ?  " 

"Preventing  it?  Heavenly  smoke,  man,  do 
you  suppose  that  I  am  such  a  condign  booby  as 
that  ?  I  want  to  bring  it  on.  You  never  fight  a 
prairie  fire  with  water." 

"  Ah,  no,"  I  said.     "  You  light  another  fire." 

"  Well,  it  has  just  occurred  to  me,  that  as  you 
and  I  are  both  threatened  in  our  camps,  we 
might  —  " 

"  Light  two  fires,"  I  said. 

"  I  am  not  going  into  the  incendiary  business 
directly,  but  as  we  both  have  the  inflammable 
material,  I  was  thinking  that  if  it  came  together 
there  might  be  some  spontaneous  combustion." 

I  began  to  laugh.  "  I  see  you  understand  my 
case  better  than  I  suspected,"  I  said. 

"  Oh,  yours  is  a  common  case  enough,"  he 
replied.  "  But  try  and  understand  mine.  In  the 
first  place,  the  camps  must  be  consumed  at  some 
time,  —  that's  inevitable.  It  is  simply  a  question 
of  directing  the  conflagration,  and  not  having  any 
more  smoke  and  ashes  than  is  necessary.  I  don't 
say  this  is  pleasant  or  commendable  business  for 
men  of  our  age.  But  if  we  haven't  any  old  women 
about  capable  of  doing  it  for  us,  heavenly  smoke, 
man,  I  suppose  we  must  try  our  hands  at  it." 

"  Are  you  sure  there  is  anything  to  do  ?  Judg- 
ing from  appearances,  we  ought  to  be  delightfully 
superfluous." 

"  Pardon  me  a  moment,"  he  said,  "  if  I  clear 
up  matters.  I  haven't  told  you  what  I  am  doing 
here." 

103 


TANGLED    UP   IN    BEULAH    LAND 

"  My  dear  Doctor,"  I  said,  "  it  wasn't  necessary. 
You  are  doing  what  no  other  man  that  I  know  of 
ever  succeeded  in  doing.  You  have  kept  your 
ideals  of  peace  and  rest  till  the  decline  of  life,  and 
then  let  them  realize  themselves." 

"  Pickles  and  persimmons.  You  talk  as  if  I 
had  got  myself  into  a  hermetically  sealed  casket. 
I  retired  on  ten  thousand  a  year  in  secure  four 
per  cents.  There's  nothing  very  ideal  about  that. 
My  ten  thousand  a  year  disappears  here  regularly 
to  help  other  people.  But  a  man  cannot  guaran- 
tee his  work  after  his  hand  is  removed." 

I  expressed  some  surprise,  and  he  added,  "  I 
am  without  other  kith  or  kin,  as  the  old  phrase 
goes,  than  the  two  women  in  this  house,  and, 
without  the  least  disparagement  of  either  of  them, 
I  don't  suppose  they  are  any  more  fit  to  carry 
on  the  work  I  have  been  doing  here  than  I  am 
to  make  faith  cures.  I  have  been  all  my  life 
working  for  other  people,  and  I'm  running  this 
place  for  other  people." 

"  Does  it  make  you  happy  ? " 

"  It  makes  seven  families  comfortable,  and, 
rightly  viewed,  that  ought  to  make  me  happy,  I  sup- 
pose. I'll  take  you  over  the  place  and  show  you." 

"  It  is  truly  philanthropic." 

"  Truly  moonshine.  There's  no  philanthropy 
in  making  other  people  work,  and  supplying  the 
shortage,  and  doing  the  scolding.  Still,  if  that 
boy  of  yours  should  by  any  possibility  get  warmed 
up,  down  here,  to  a  practical  view  of  things,  it 
might  be  providential." 

104 


THE   SECESSION    OF    POLLY 

"  Why  providential  ?  " 

"  Providential  because  he  will  have  ten  thou- 
sand a  year  to  pour  in  when  I  have  got  through, 
and  thus  prevent  some  unknown  quantity  from 
undoing  my  work.  I  suppose  you  have  seen 
enough  to  satisfy  you  that  the  heiress  will  not 
die  an  old  maid." 

"  Doctor,"  I  said,  "  you  have  omitted  any 
mention  of  the  other  girl  in  your  establishment." 

"  Oh,  the  other  girl  is  an  incident.  I  am 
talking  about  the  fixtures  of  the  estate.  The 
other  girl  doesn't  count." 

At  that  moment  the  voices  came  to  us  from 
the  parlour,  woven  into  some  old  trio.  We  both 
listened.  Something  of  the  characters  of  the 
three  personages  was  suggested  in  the  tones. 
There  was  a  rich  accenting  contralto  heard  in 
a  voluptuous  undercurrent,  some  uneven  dabs  of 
tenor,  a  little  uncertain,  and  over  all  a  clear,  un- 
fettered soprano,  dominating  with  pitch  and  volu- 
bility, running  along,  in  fact  as  if  challenging  the 
other  parts  to  catch  up  with  it,  and  ending  in  a 
roulade  of  laughter. 

I  looked  at  the  Doctor.  He  was  not  affected 
in  a  similar  manner,  for  he  said:  — 

"  You  see  it  was  only  fair  to  tell  you  what  had 
occurred  to  my  mind." 

"  I  think  I  understand  you,"  I  said,  "  and  I 
see  no  reason  why  we  should  not  contemplate 
the  progress  of  events  conjointly.  Suppose  you 
tell  me  about  the  unknown  quantity." 

"  We  have  some  neighbours,"  he  replied, "  who 
105 


TANGLED  UP  IN  BEULAH  LAND 

are  landed  proprietors,  and  others  who  make 
flying  trips  down  here  in  the  summer  in  search 
of  sport ;  but  as  they  are  my  guests  at  various 
times,  I  guess  I  will  leave  you  to  use  your  own 
eyes  and  judgment." 

At  that  moment  Polly  pushed  the  door  open 
with  her  foot,  and  came  in,  bearing  a  tray  upon 
which  were  a  bowl  of  nuts,  a  bottle  of  sherry,  and 
wineglasses. 

"  I  suppose,"  she  said,  "  you  were  beginning 
to  wonder  why  I  hadn't  interrupted  you  before." 

"You?"  said  the  Doctor,  who  had  evidently 
not  finished  his  confidences.  "  Put  that  down  on 
the  table,  and  go  and  get  me  a  small  box  of  light 
Havanas  that  is  on  my  dressing-case." 

She  tossed  her  head  rather  saucily. 

"  I  will  send  your  servant,  sahib,"  she  said, 
turning  to  make  a  flying  exit. 

But  he  got  an  arm  about  her  and  gave  her  a 
little  hug,  which  I  thought  he  might  have  omitted 
in  my  presence. 

"  Bob  can  stand  smoke  like  a  squaw,"  he  said, 
"  but  she  resents  my  orders.  Great  Caesar,  girl, 
if  I  didn't  have  you  to  explode  against,  you  un- 
mitigable  little  snipe,  I'd  be  worse  than  wet  gun- 
powder. Now  go  and  fetch  the  small  box  like 
a  good  girl,  and  you  shall  crack  the  nuts  for  us, 
and  we'll  drink  your  blessed  health,  which  is 
getting  to  be  a  terrible  burden  to  everybody  but 
me,  —  you  incorrigible,  stuck-up  banshee  —  re- 
member, the  small  box." 

She  gave  me  one  glance  as  she  disappeared. 
1 06 


THE   SECESSION   OF   POLLY 

It  was  singularly  legible,  and  it  said:  "You 
see  how  the  Mogul  all  went  out  of  him  at  the 
slightest  resistance.  Talk  about  wet  gunpowder." 

The  Doctor  relapsed  at  once  into  the  theme 
which  Polly  had  disturbed  without  dislodging. 

"  Old  man,"  he  said,  —  and  "  old  man  "  was  his 
favourite  term  of  confidence, — "  old  man,  neither 
you  nor  I  at  our  age  can  go  into  the  match-mak- 
ing business,  but  it  seems  to  me  the  depth  of 
hoary  imbecility  for  one  man  to  be  going  about 
with  an  interrogation  in  his  keeping,  and  the 
other  man  guarding  the  answer  to  it,  and  both  of 
them  looking  askance  at  each  other." 

Our  heads  had  come  pretty  close  together,  and 
our  voices  had  sunk  to  undertones.  When 
Polly  came  in  with  the  box  of  cigars,  I  think  we 
both  straightened  up  a  little  as  if  caught  una- 
wares. 

"  Gracious,"  she  said,  "  I  ought  to  have 
knocked." 

"  What  are  they  doing  out  there  in  the  parlour  ? " 
asked  the  Doctor. 

She  looked  sidewise  out  the  door,  as  if  it  were 
necessary  to  ascertain. 

"  They  are  together,  turning  over  a  pile  of  old 
music." 

"  Yes,"  said  the  Doctor,  "  it's  pretty  old  stuff, 
I  suppose." 

"  I  guess  so,"  said  Polly ;  "  but  it  answers  its 
purpose  just  as  well  as  new." 

"Very  well,  don't  disturb  them,"  said  the 
Doctor,  prying  open  the  cigar  box  with  a  paper- 

107 


TANGLED    UP    IN    BEULAH    LAND 

knife.  "  You  serve  our  wine.  What  did  you 
bring  that  pony  glass  for  ?  " 

"  You  said  you  were  going  to  drink  my  health, 
and  I  supposed  I  would  have  to  be  in  it  mod- 
estly." 

"  So  you  shall,"  coming  down  at  once  to  a 
familiar  courtliness.  "  Here's  to  your  dauntless 
vitality.  As  it  couldn't  be  worse,  may  it  never 
be  less.  You  were  born  to  defy  all  doctors  in 
general,  and  one  Doctor  in  particular." 

Whereupon  he  drank  off  his  sherry  with  a  fine 
old-fashioned  smack,  and  the  minx  at  the  table, 
looking  through  her  tiny  glass  with  one  eye, 
said :  — 

"  I  seem  to  be  drinking  to  my  own  misfortunes, 
but  I  go  you."  Whereupon  she  sipped  the  wine 
and  made  a  face. 

"  Now  sit  down  and  suppress  yourself,"  said 
the  Doctor,  "  and  we'll  let  you  into  the  private 
council.  I  have  just  been  telling  my  old  friend 
here  that  there  are  no  secrets  in  this  house.  Do 
you  understand  ?  He  is  a  privileged  guest.  He 
is  to  have  whatever  he  takes  a  fancy  to.  If  he 
wants  the  key  of  the  wine-cellar,  it  must  be  taken 
up  to  his  room.  If  he  should  take  a  notion  to 
marry  the  young  lady  of  the  house,  not  a  word 
must  be  said." 

"  Not  even  by  the  young  lady  herself?  "  asked 
Polly,  with  genuine  surprise. 

"  Well,  you  see,  she  isn't  as  anxious  to  say 
things  as  you  are,  my  dear,"  continued  the  Doctor. 
"  My  friend  here  is  a  good  deal  like  myself;  he 

108 


THE   SECESSION   OF   POLLY 

takes  great  pride  in  his  dignity  and  decorum  as 
a  father,  and  insists  on  all  the  small  proprieties — " 

"  Oh,  come  now,"  I  interrupted,  seeing  that  the 
young  lady  was  making  some  ironical  comments 
on  this  speech  with  her  eyebrows  and  the  corners 
of  her  mouth,  "  you  are  putting  me  in  a  false 
light;  yes,  you  are  —  Bob  and  I  understood  each 
other  at  the  first  jump.  Confound  the  small 
proprieties  where  everything  is  on  so  large  a 
scale." 

"  Tush,  tush,  old  man.  I  never  could  keep 
more  than  one  eye  on  Bob,  but  now  that  you 
are  here,  she  ought  to  see  that  there  are  two  on 
her.  When  you  understand  him  better,  my 
dear,"  he  said,  turning  to  Polly,  "  you  will  see 
that  he  doesn't  do  things  rashly  like  young  men." 

"  You  mean,"  said  Polly,  "  that  he  doesn't  wade 
in  at  the  first  invitation." 

I  laughed  boisterously,  but  the  Doctor  regarded 
her  seriously. 

"  '  Wade  in,'  my  child  ?"  he  said.  "  If  there  is 
anything  that  my  friend  dislikes,  it  is  slang,  and 
especially  New  York  slang." 

"  Doctor,"  I  said,  making  one  of  those  plunges 
that  divert,  if  they  do  not  relieve,  one's  conscience, 
"  did  Polly  come  from  New  York  ?  " 

"  Where  she  came  from,"  he  replied,  "  does 
not  appear  to  me  at  this  moment  to  be  so  exigent 
as  the  where  she  is  driving  at,  if  you  will  pardon 
that  form  of  speech." 

"  Let  me  ask  you  one  other  question ;  did  you 
show  her  that  letter  I  wrote  you  ? " 

109 


TANGLED  UP  IN  BEULAH  LAND 

The  Doctor  took  his  cigar  from  his  mouth  and 
looked  at  me  in  undisguised  astonishment. 

But  Polly  got  ahead  of  him.  "  The  Doctor," 
she  said,  "  is  not  in  the  habit  of  showing  his  private 
letters,  and  what  is  more  to  the  point,  nobody  in 
the  house  would  read  one  if  he  left  it  open  on  the 
table." 

That  this  was  jumping  behind  my  question  to 
the  real  import  of  it,  my  cheek  must  have  betrayed 
to  her.  But  I  admired  her  sudden  assumption 
of  dignity  even  more  than  I  had  admired  her 
badinage. 

"  My  dear  girl,"  I  said,  "you  told  me  that  you 
could  be  mean  if  you  tried.  It  wasn't  necessary 
to  prove  it  by  thinking  me  capable  of  such  a 
suspicion." 

I  thought  this  embodied  enough  of  compliment 
and  apology  to  turn  away  the  wrath  of  the  baggage, 
but,  when  I  looked  at  her,  she  had  her  head  up, 
her  under  lip  was  drawn  in,  and  there  was  a  scintil- 
lant  drop  in  the  corner  of  her  eye,  as  I  live. 

The  Doctor  was  lying  back,  rolling  out  a  per- 
fectly disinterested  column  of  smoke. 

"  Gentlemen,"  said  Polly,  "  I  wish  you  good 
night." 

And  out  she  marched  like  a  vivandiere. 

"  You  are  not  as  old  as  I  am,"  said  the  Doctor, 
contemplating  the  ceiling. 

"  No,"  I  said,  "  I  appear  to  be  young  enough 
to  have  made  what  we  call  in  New  York  a  bad 
break.  I  must  have  offended  her.  Wait  a 
moment.  I'll  ask  her  pardon  and  bring  her  back." 

no 


THE   SECESSION    OF    POLLY 

Whereupon  I  started  in  pursuit  of  her.  But  I 
could  not  catch  her.  I  ran  up  the  stairs,  saw  a 
flash  of  white  skirt  as  a  door  was  opened  and  shut 
quickly,  and  fancied  I  heard  the  click  of  a  key. 

"  It  is  very  ridiculous,"  I  said  to  myself,  as  I 
came  slowly  back,  "  to  be  jumping  about  in  this 
juvenile  fashion  after  that  petticoat.  Confound 
her  elusive  airs,  what  am  I  thinking  about  ? "  When 
I  had  reseated  myself,  the  Doctor,  still  contem- 
plating the  ceiling,  said  :  — 

"  Let  me  see,  how  old  are  you,  anyway  ?  " 

"  I  suppose  I  did  act  like  a  boy." 

"  More  like  a  trout  when  he  sees  a  glittering 
fly,"  observed  the  Doctor.  "  I  should  suppose 
that  you  had  learned  by  this  time  that  nothing 
hurts  a  young  woman  so  much  as  to  discover  that 
she  is  not  the  one  who  is  going  to  be  married  off." 

"  Then  she  must  have  known  what  we  were 
talking  about." 

"  My  dear  fellow,  if  there  is  anything  in  this 
house  that  Bob  doesn't  know  all  about,  you  can 
makeup  your  mind  it  isn't  worth  knowing." 

Then  he  dismissed  the  subject  peremptorily. 

Several  days  passed  in  this  uneventful  manner, 
the  Doctor  carrying  me  into  all  the  byways  of  his 
domain,  and  pointing  out  with  admirable  patience 
the  multitudinous  details  of  the  estate,  which  I  saw 
with  much  the  same  pleasure  that  one  experiences 
in  looking  at  a  vast  piece  of  machinery  that  does  its 
prodigious  work  noiselessly.  How  smooth  and 
systematic  and  unobtrusively  the  great  farm  and 
the  great  park  came  together  without  the  observer 

in 


TANGLED  UP  IN  BEULAH  LAND 

being  able  to  tell  where  one  melted  into  the  other, 
making  of  thrift  and  luxury  a  rare  marriage  of  con- 
tent !  As  for  the  Doctor,  he  was  like  the  master 
of  the  machine,  who  stands  by  to  keep  his  eye  on 
the  gearing  and  bearings,  only  adding  a  drop  of 
oil  here  and  there,  and  all  the  hard  work  is  done 
easily  and  continuously  under  the  steady  gaze  of 
intelligence. 

In  the  afternoons  —  what  drowsy,  fragrant  after- 
noons they  were  —  I  was  left  to  my  siesta,  or 
allowed  to  read  in  the  Doctor's  well-stocked 
library,  where  the  sun  came  in  broken  and  danc- 
ing lights  through  the  rose  vines,  and  sometimes 
I  could  hear,  over  the  drone  of  the  bees,  the  mur- 
mur of  voices  on  the  rose  bench,  and  knew  that 
Charlie  and  lo  were  weaving  their  own  spell,  so  I 
was  content. 

Into  the  slumbrous  restfulness  of  the  place  came 
lo's  admirers,  with  pleasant  disturbance.  I  could 
see  them  from  the  window,  ride  up  and  make  their 
courtly  obeisance  on  the  big  veranda,  gallant  fel- 
lows enough,  in  corduroy  breeches  and  gay  sporting 
coats,  with  large  exuberant  carelessness,  mingling 
formal  politeness  with  freedom  of  demeanour,  and 
acting  altogether  like  city  men  who  have  left  met- 
ropolitan restraints  behind.  It  was  plain  that  they 
were  tolerated  by  the  Doctor's  generous  hospitality, 
and  that  they  made  the  most  of  it,  without  penetrat- 
ing very  deep  into  his  domesticity  or  drawing  him 
familiarly  into  their  group.  They  regarded  our 
menage  with  good-natured  familiarity,  but  it  was 
evident  enough  that  there  was  only  one  real  object 

112 


THE   SECESSION   OF   POLLY 

of  interest  in  the  place.  One  of  these  summer 
neighbours  had  been  introduced  to  me  as  Mr.  Ber- 
wick Fancher,  and  his  personality  outranked  the 
others  in  quantity  rather  than  in  quality.  There 
was  so  much  more  of  him.  He  knew  my  sister, 
Mrs.  Dewey,  very  well ;  was  glad  to  meet  a  city 
man  so  far  away  from  his  base  ;  how  did  I  fill  in 
the  time ;  if  it  grew  heavy,  hoped  I  would  come 
up  to  the  club  house ;  there  were  some  extra  flies 
and  rods  there,  and  a  rack  of  good  fowling-pieces  ; 
and  then  he  stalked  off  as  if  he  had  exhausted  the 
polite  repertoire.  It  required  a  constant  exercise 
of  one's  self-conscious  dignity  to  withstand  this 
magnificent  impact  of  health  and  egotism.  Mr. 
Fancher's  heartiness  was  entirely  dynamic,  and  was 
probably  not  intended  to  be  supercilious,  but  over- 
weening physical  health  sometimes  manages  to  be 
both.  His  broad  shoulders,  square  face,  massive 
jaw,  heavy,  jet-black  whiskers,  and  handsome, 
sparkling  brown  eye,  made  an  ensemble  of  virility 
that  overrode  everything.  I  think  sensibility 
invariably  shrank  a  little  at  his  personal  momen- 
tum, for  there  was  an  irresistible  puissance  in  his 
vibrant  bass  voice  and  his  sinewy  step.  That  it 
was  lo  who  attracted  him  to  our  otherwise  un- 
attractive group,  he  took  no  pains  to  conceal. 

This  young  man's  father  had  more  than  once 
flitted  across  my  view  at  the  Club.  I  remembered 
that  Major  Downs  held  him  in  great  estimation, 
as  in  fact  did  a  very  large  circle  of  men,  for  no 
other  apparent  reason  than  that  he  was  able  to  buy 
them  all  up.  As  to  how  the  elder  Fancher  made 

"3 


TANGLED  UP  IN  BEULAH  LAND 

his  money,  proper  form  never  permitted  us  to  in- 
quire. If  that  matter  was  discussed  at  all,  it  was 
discussed  among  the  dowagers  whose  social  bait 
the  son  had  refused  to  nibble.  It  was  very  certain 
that  the  son  had  fallen  into  the  worst  of  all  human 
habits,  which  is  the  habit  of  obtaining  all  that  one 
desires.  Perhaps  my  passing  interest  in  him 
sprang  from  a  parental  pride  in  my  own  offspring, 
and  I  will  not  deny  that  I  had  a  little  anxiety,  if 
not  resentment,  at  the  self-complacent  manner  in 
which  obstreperous  health  planted  both  its  feet 
into  a  demesne  that  the  Doctor  and  I  had  staked 
out  between  us. 

I  was  walking  on  the  big  porch  one  morning 
just  after  breakfast,  wondering  what  had  become  of 
Polly,  and  expecting  every  moment  that  she  would 
flutter  out  of  the  hall  lightly,  and,  catching  me  by 
the  arm,  again  add  buoyancy  and  intimacy  to  my 
exercise,  when  Mr.  Fancher  arrived,  quite  spectacu- 
larly, on  a  splendid  black  animal,  accompanied  by 
a  mounted  groom  who  led  an  extra  horse.  He 
came  up  to  the  porch  in  fine  style.  He  had 
changed  his  jaunty  white  corduroy  jacket  for  a 
Prince  Albert  coat  and  wore  a  silk  hat.  His 
salutation  to  me  was  not  lacking  in  politeness, 
but  I  thought  it  was  tinged  with  a  slight  air  of 
supererogation.  "Miss  lo,"  he  said,  "  promised 
to  try  this  Morgan  horse.  We  are  going  to  take 
a  five-mile  dash.  A  capital  morning  for  a  run, 
eh?" 

Then  he  ignored  me  entirely  in  the  inspection 
of  the  animal,  so  that  I  continued  my  walk  with 

114 


THE   SECESSION    OF    POLLY 

a  half-conscious  duty  to  let  him  see  that  his 
arrangements  were  of  no  especial  interest  to  me. 
But  I  could  not  help  wondering  if  lo  —  lo  with 
those  drooping  lids  —  would  not  accept  this  man's 
coercive  masculinity  as  irresistible.  I  had  seen 
such  women  before.  Their  weight  of  loveliness 
destroyed  their  resistance.  I  slipped  away  to  the 
library,  and  watched  her  come  out  in  a  riding  habit 
and  wait  for  Boylston  to  bring  her  side-saddle. 
She  was  animated  and  flushed,  and  I  remarked 
that  Mr.  Fancher  was  not  restrained  by  any  idola- 
trous delicacy.  As  the  little  cavalcade  rode  away, 
Charlie  came  up  just  in  time  to  see  them  issue 
at  the  gate  into  the  highway.  If  he  had  a  spark 
of  his  father's  enthusiasm,  he  must  have  admired 
the  beauty  with  such  a  mount,  as  she  galloped 
out  of  sight.  He  leaned  against  one  of  the  pil- 
lars of  the  veranda,  gazing  after  her,  and  if  you 
will  pardon  that  kind  of  dotage  which  in  a  jbarent 
is  not  the  result  of  age,  I  must  acknowledge  that 
he  for  the  moment  appeared  somewhat  inadequate 
to  the  situation.  How,  I  asked  myself,  was  that 
slender  and  sensitive  youth,  who  had  never  been 
allowed  to  put  one  foot  beyond  the  limits  of  a 
delicate  noblesse  oblige,  to  grapple  with  this  lusty 
Lochinvar  who  would  ride  up  and  carry  off  the 
maiden  under  his  eyes  by  sheer  strength  and 
audacity.  It  seemed  to  me  at  that  moment  that 
Charlie  looked  smaller  than  usual  as  he  stood 
there,  limply  enough,  up  against  the  possibilities. 
Perhaps  every  fond  father  does  not  go  through 
this  experience,  but  how  many  mothers  do;  and 

"5 


TANGLED  UP  IN  BEULAH  LAND 

had  I  not  for  years  been  playing  the  dual  role  in 
watching  over  and  possibly  exaggerating  him  ? 
But  I  lacked  a  woman's  power  of  magnifying  her 
own. 

I  would  have  given  a  great  deal  if  I  could  have 
told  by  Charlie's  pensive  attitude  if  he  was  think- 
ing of  the  beauty  who  had  galloped  away,  or  of 
that  girl  in  New  York.  There  was  a  keen  little 
reproach  in  the  reflection  that  I  might  have  set 
a  trap  for  him  only  to  see  him  uselessly  caught 
and  mangled.  If  he  had  already  been  smitten  by 
this  beauty,  —  and  Heaven  knows  no  man  could 
blame  him  for  that,  —  how  was  I  to  assist  him  ? 
I  had  always  come  to  his  rescue  promptly.  Must 
I  stand  by  now  and  pity  him  ?  The  Doctor  was 
averse  to  intrigues,  at  least  he  pretended  that  in 
such  matters  it  was  safe  to  let  the  best  man  win. 
There  was  nobody  in  the  establishment  that  a 
doting  father  could  confide  in. 

Bless  my  soul,  yes,  there  was,  —  there  was 
Polly.  What  quick  work  her  nimble  wit  would 
make  of  that  overbearing  masculinity.  What 
finesse,  what  intuition,  what  quick  discernment, 
and  Polly  had  almost  precipitated  herself  at  me. 
What  aid  and  comfort  that  little  diplomatist  might 
be  to  a  —  well,  to  a  doting  person. 

I  got  up  and  strode  out  again  upon  the 
porch. 

"Halloo,  my  boy,"  I  cried,  "what's  the 
matter  ? " 

"  Matter,"  he  said,  "  with  me  ?  " 

"  Yes,  you  look  lonesome." 
116 


THE    SECESSION    OF    POLLY 

"  More  than  usual  ?  "   he  asked. 

"  What's  become  of  Miss  Polly  ?  " 

"Miss  Polly,  —  why,  I  understand  that  she's 
gone." 

"  Gone  ?  "   I  almost  gasped.     "  Gone  where  ?  " 

He  turned  away,  but  I  got  in  front  of  him. 

"  How  do  you  know  she  has  gone  ?  "   I  asked. 

"  I  heard  it  mentioned.  I  supposed  you  knew 
it." 

"  What  did  she  go  for  ?  " 

"  Perhaps  there  wasn't  any  adequate  reason  for 
her  staying." 

There  was  something  like  evasion  in  his  man- 
ner and  answers,  and  I  did  not  like  it. 

"  Look  here,  Comrade,"  I  said,  "  if  you  have 
done  anything  or  said  anything  to  drive  that  girl 
away,  hang  me  if  I  don't  hunt  her  up  and  make 
an  apology." 

This  conversation  was  broken  into  by  the 
appearance  of  "  Mother,"  who  came  out  smil- 
ingly, with  her  two  fingers  on  her  mouth.  I  came 
at  her  directly.  "  Madame,"  I  said,  "  what  has 
become  of  Polly  ?  " 

The  dear  old  lady  had  her  eyes  on  the  high- 
way, and  I  could  see  that  her  mind  was  there 
also.  Polly  was  of  little  account  to  her  at  that 
moment. 

"Miss  Polly,"  she  said,  "has  gone  to  her 
cousin's  over  at  the  Lodge.  We  never  can  tell 
just  what  that  young  lady  will  do  next." 

"  Delightful,"  I  said,  "  she  is  liable  to  come 
back  at  any  moment." 

117 


TANGLED  UP  IN  BEULAH  LAND 

"  Well,  I  don't  know  —  She  sent  for  her 
trunk  last  night,  and  the  Doctor  refused  to  let  it 
go.  It  wasn't  very  nice  of  her  to  go  off  in  that 
manner  when  she  knew  I  had  company.  She's 
as  independent  as  if  she  was  hired." 

It  did  not  become  me  to  take  advantage  of 
this  kind  old  lady's  garrulity  to  gratify  my  curios- 
ity, but  I  could  not  help  venturing  to  remark 
that  I  hoped  the  Doctor  would  hold  fast  to  her 
trunk,  for  it  would  be  a  pity  to  lose  sight  entirely 
of  such  a  sprightly  young  woman. 

"  Yes,  she  is  sprightly  enough,"  said  the  Mother. 
"  There's  nothing  the  matter  with  her  sprightli- 
ness,  I'm  sure  —  she  keeps  us  all  on  the  twitter; 
but  girls  will  be  girls,  you  know,  or  they  wouldn't 
have  a  chance  to  kiss  and  make  up." 

I  was  not  disposed  to  agree  with  her  final  de- 
cision. Some  girls,  I  was  inclined  to  think,  must 
be  witches,  but  as  we  were  obviously  not  thinking 
of  the  same  girl,  I  moved  my  chair  around  so 
that  I  could  see  the  beauty  and  her  cavalier  re- 
enter  the  gate  on  their  return,  merely  remarking 
that  the  young  ladies  were  so  much  attached  to 
each  other  that  I  should  think  Miss  lo  would 
miss  Polly. 

"  Yes,  I  guess  she  knows  that  we  miss  her. 
The  Doctor  said  this  morning  that  a  breakfast 
without  Polly  was  like  trying  to  shave  with  cold 
water." 

While  we  sat  there  our  equestrians  returned. 
They  came  in  at  the  gate  with  much  more  pag- 
eantry than  they  were  aware  of,  and  the  old  lady 

118 


THE   SECESSION   OF   POLLY 

fairly  beamed  with  admiration.  As  soon  as  lo  was 
dismounted,  her  cavalier,  with  a  sweep  of  his  hat, 
put  spurs  to  his  horse  and  he  and  his  groom  went 
thundering  off.  It  was  like  a  page  of  Froissart. 
The  first  thing  that  Miss  lo  said  as  she  mounted 
the  steps  was,  "  Has  Polly  come  back  ?  " 

It  thus  became  evident  to  me  that  the  whole 
household  wanted  Polly  back  again,  and  I  made 
up  my  mind  that  I  would  find  Charlie,  who  had 
wandered  off  somewhere,  and  then  see  if  we  could 
find  the  house  called  the  Lodge,  and,  if  possible, 
bring  her  back.  In  my  search  for  Charlie,  I  ran 
upon  the  Doctor  in  the  trees,  and  told  him  frankly 
what  I  intended  to  do.  To  my  surprise  he  said : 
"  Very  good.  I  will  go  with  you.  I  want  to 
give  her  a  piece  of  my  mind.  If  you  feel  like  it, 
we  will  walk  there.  It  is  only  a  couple  of  miles." 


119 


CHAPTER   VII 

THE    CAPITULATION    OF    POLLY 

HE  Doctor  and  I  strode  along 
across  his  fields  in  the  full  glare 
of  that  summer  day,  heralded  by 
innumerable  birds  and  bannered 
by  blossoming  trees.  The  aspect 
of  the  country  was  one  of  whelm- 
ing life  and  beauty,  softened  by  infinite  varieties 
of  colour,  and  prophetic  of  an  orderly  opulence 
that  seemed  to  be  the  expression  of  an  undis- 
turbed divine  plan.  It  was  impossible  not  to  feel 
the  gentle  stress  of  Nature,  everywhere  luxuriat- 
ing in  the  early  stages  of  its  exultation.  The 
lanes  were  snowed  deep  in  blossoms,  the  air  was 
heavy  with  the  incense  of  a  thousand  censers.  It 
was  that  auspicious  moment  when,  as  the  poet 
has  said,  "  the  earth  is  in  tune,"  and  out  of  her 
myriad  mysteries  came  only  the  harmonies  that 
intoxicate  the  sense. 

1 20 


THE    CAPITULATION    OF   POLLY 

The  Doctor,  who  instinctively  knew  what  I 
was  thinking  about,  fitted  himself  into  it  with  a 
ready  gusto. 

"  The  real  charm  of  this  country,"  he  said, 
"  has  not  changed  much  for  half  a  century.  The 
sturdy  men  who  came  here  from  Scotland  and  the 
north  of  Ireland  left  most  of  the  distressing  influ- 
ences behind  them.  They  came  from  bleak  hills 
and  storm-swept  moors  into  a  land  flowing  with 
milk  and  honey,  where  the  roses  sprang  up  over 
night  and  the  grasses  of  the  field  stretched  for- 
ward millions  of  hands  to  meet  them.  The 
whole  belt  of  this  country,  from  the  mountains 
eastward  across  the  great  terraces  to  the  sea, 
slopes  away  in  an  intermediate  zone  of  quiet 
luxuriance.  On  one  side  races  the  torrent  of 
Northern  enterprise,  magnificent,  clamorous,  in- 
satiable ;  on  the  other  side  stretches  the  exhausted 
domains  of  an  outlived  condition,  waiting  for  new 
life.  This  is  the  splendid  mean  between  the 
aggressive  destructiveness  and  the  patriarchal  in- 
dolence of  man.  Here  he  seems  to  have  lost 
everything  but  the  primitive  thrift  and  content, 
and  walks  in  the  footsteps  of  his  fathers  with  a 
homely  industry." 

Having  delivered  himself  of  this  characteristic 
speech,  the  Doctor  stopped  in  the  lane  and 
pointed  —  very  much  as  Abraham  might  have 
done  —  to  the  outlying  meadows,  through  which 
a  bit  of  blue  ribbon  ran  its  watery  way,  and  upon 
which  the  dainty  mistress  of  the  season  had  shirred 
her  wild  parterres  with  feminine  device.  It  was 

121 


TANGLED  UP  IN  BEULAH  LAND 

not  that,  however,  to  which  he  directed  my  at- 
tention, but  to  the  Southdown  mutton  moving 
lazily  across  the  slopes,  and  looking  at  that  dis- 
tance like  the  aphides  on  a  succulent  leaf.  Sil- 
houetted on  the  crown  of  the  rise,  against  the 
purple  bastions  of  a  far-off  mountain,  sat  the 
shepherd  and  his  collies,  like  black  dots  on 
the  rim  of  it  all.  The  pastoral  perspective  was 
like  an  opening  into  ancient  days.  The  soft 
south  wind  swept  over  the  stretches,  rippling  the 
fields  and  puffing  lazily  a  few  white  clouds  that 
sailed  into  the  northeast.  No  doubt  the  Doctor 
saw  that  my  fancy  was  leaping  ahead  of  the  facts, 
and  for  that  profligacy  he  always  had  a  leash  of 
practical  sense,  though  he  was  not  always  able  to 
adjust  it  to  my  evasive  faculties.  I  believe  his 
remarks  made,  on  this  occasion,  reference  to 
pounds  of  fleece  and  heads  of  fadings,  with  a 
quiet  observation  about  the  easy  flux  of  vegetable 
into  animal  life,  if  you  did  not  interfere  violently 
with  it.  But  when  he  drew  me  down  to  the 
stark  market  rates,  and  told  me  that  he  would  cut 
a  hundred  and  fifty  tons  of  hay,  worth  two  thou- 
sand dollars  in  the  market,  and  began  to  figure  on 
the  small  profits,  I,  who  must  have  been  breath- 
ing in  a  little  of  the  illimitable,  and  thinking  of  a 
shepherdess  in  her  buckled  shoes  dancing  over 
those  slopes,  rather  resented  his  sordid  disturbance 
of  my  atmosphere,  and  told  him  that  the  result  by 
barn  measurement  did  not  appear  to  my  financial 
mind  to  be  exultingly  remunerative. 

"  That  is  because  you  look  at  it  through  your 
122 


THE    CAPITULATION    OF    POLLY 

infernal  Wall  Street  spectacles,"  he  said.  "  Look 
at  it  through  my  unaided  eyes  just  for  a  moment. 
I  haven't  taken  to  glasses  yet." 

"Seen  through  your  eyes,"  I  asked,  "is  the 
sum  total  changed  ?  " 

"  Absolutely.  Metamorphosed  —  sublimated 
from  mere  connivance  to  comfort ;  from  insatiate 
grasping  and  grubbing  to  a  kind  of  ethereal 
guardianship.  You  do  not  apprehend  the  spir- 
itual side  of  it." 

"  Spiritual  side  of  what,  —  wool  and  mutton 
and  grass  ? " 

"  Not  exactly.  The  spiritual  side  of  my  deal- 
ing in  them  at  all,  without  any  barn  measure- 
ments. The  spirituality  of  it  resides  in  the  fact 
that  I  get  so  precious  little  out  of  it." 

"  That's  it,"  I  said ;  "  the  spiritual  assets  of 
your  husbandry  are  not  computable.  If  I  were 
to  give  way  to  your  agriculture  of  the  air,  I 
might  try  to  reap  some  of  your  rhapsodies,  but  I 
should  probably  fail  for  want  of  your  harvesting 
fancy." 

"  Then  you  think  that  I  reap  nothing  but 
fancies  ? " 

"  Oh,  yes,  —  philosophy.  But  you  would  reap 
that  in  the  top  of  a  New  York  apartment  house. 
I  shall  agree  with  you  and  share  your  enjoyment 
so  long  as  you  do  not  try  to  list  your  assets  as 
available  resources." 

"  Yes,"  he  said  reflectively,  "  my  scheme  must 
appear  that  way  to  you,  and  is  not  an  industrial 
one." 

123 


TANGLED  UP  IN  BEULAH  LAND 

"  Better,"  I  said.  "  As  you  put  it,  it  seems  to 
me  to  be  a  religious  scheme." 

He  laughed  heartily.  "Try  and  understand 
me,"  he  said.  "  I  have  been  beguiled  into  it,  not 
by  a  promoter,  but  by  the  cajolement  of  the  thing 
itself.  So  great  has  been  its  influence  that  I  have 
given  up  working  for  myself  and  taken  to  work- 
ing for  other  people.  You  have  no  idea  what  a 
relief  it  is.  Instead  of  pulling  the  other  fellows 
down  in  a  strictly  business  or  industrial  manner, 
I  stoop  a  little  so  that  the  other  fellows  can  climb 
up  a  little  higher  on  my  shoulders.  I  am  carry- 
ing seven  families  on  my  back." 

"  But  you  do  not  stoop  any." 

"  No.  I  stand  pretty  straight  to  it,  do  I  not  ? 
I  learned,  when  I  was  in  England,  that  the  whole 
art  of  being  a  successful  landed  proprietor  is  not 
to  depend  on  your  land,  but  to  make  it  depend 
on  you.  Nothing  is  more  un-American  and 
effete  and  delightful.  It  is  a  lesson  that  I 
learned  from  the  land  itself,  and  I  think  any  one 
can  learn  it  when  he  isn't  content  to  furrow  the 
land,  but  fraternizes  with  it." 

"  That,"  I  said,  "  is  undoubtedly  a  pretty  poetic 
idea,  and  is  properly  appreciated  when  a  man  has 
ten  thousand  a  year." 

The  Doctor  gave  no  heed  to  this,  but  con- 
tinued :  "  I  came  into  this  country  with  the 
common  understanding  that  I  was  to  get  every- 
thing I  could  out  of  it.  Squeeze  and  grub  was 
the  agricultural  motto.  If  I  hadn't  leftmost  of 
my  human  kind  out  of  the  scheme  and  taken  a 

124 


THE    CAPITULATION    OF    POLLY 

lesson  or  two  from  Nature  herself,  I  should  have 
been  much  more  successful  as  an  agriculturist, 
but  not  as  self-respecting  as  a  philosopher  or  a 
religionist.  No  sooner  had  I  settled  myself  and 
arranged  my  sordid  machinery  than  I  established 
an  intimacy  with  Nature  and  began  to  feel  a  little 
ashamed  of  myself.  She  had  to  squeeze  and 
grub.  Everything  was  giving  up  to  something 
else;  from  the  stem  of  grass  to  the  Holstein  cows 
the  whole  procession  of  forces  was  bent  on  relin- 
quishing, giving  up  joyously  all  that  it  had,  and 
then  getting  out  of  the  way  for  something  else. 
I  pictured  myself  bringing  the  procession  to  a 
halt  on  my  porch,  spreading  myself  and  taking 
it  all  in,  and  congratulating  myself  that  I  was  a 
terminal  depot  where  it  all  stopped.  I  think  that 
I  sneaked  around  among  the  fields  for  a  while, 
feeling  that  I  was  a  piece  of  impertinence,  and 
before  I  knew  it  I  had  fallen  into  the  general 
scheme.  There  was  no  use  in  breaking  a  cog  in 
such  enginery.  So  I  took  to  passing  on  the 
benefits.  I  might  have  discharged  my  seven 
workmen  and  lived  on  my  interest,  but  I  retained 
them  and  let  them  live  on  it.  When  a  man  gets 
to  be  my  age,  I  suppose  it  does  look  like  religion, 
but  it  is  only  a  doting  voluptuousness.  I  like  to 
fancy  myself  sitting  over  these  people  and  shep- 
herding them  with  a  benign  superiority  like  that 
fellow  you  saw  on  the  rim  with  his  dogs.  Now 
and  then  one  of  the  flock  gets  a  little  astray,  like 
this  lamb  we  are  going  after,  and  then  I  come 
down  with  my  crook  and  fetch  things  round  into 

125 


TANGLED  UP  IN  BEULAH  LAND 

natural  order  again.      It's  about  the  only  luxury 
left  to  a  dotard." 

"  Doctor,"  I  said,  "  you  are  perfectly  right,  and 
I  think  I  understand  you.  Having  imbibed  the 
great  lesson  from  Nature,  you  set  about  trans- 
forming your  human  establishment  into  a  par- 
terre where  everybody  should  bloom  and  sing 
and  grow,  and  take  no  special  heed.  I  suppose 
it  is  as  near  to  a  paradisiacal  condition  as  a  philos- 
opher ever  gets  in  this  world,  and  it  was  worth 
coming  a  long  way  to  see.  If  you  will  pardon 
me  for  saying  it,  I  feel  like  a  bird  myself  on  this 
occasion ;  but  what  I  cannot  understand  is  why 
any  lamb  in  the  flock  should  be  at  all  anxious  to 
get  away." 

"  Bob  —  ah,  you  are  thinking  of  Bob.  Well, 
you  see  that  Bob  belongs  so  entirely  to  the  nature 
of  things,  that  her  absence  makes  me  feel  that  I 
have  in  some  way  disturbed  the  natural  order  — 
just  as  if  the  robins  should  depart  in  July." 

"  I  hope  there  was  nothing  in  my  treatment  of 
her,"  I  said,  "  that  made  her  uncomfortable." 

"  That's  just  it,"  said  the  Doctor,  catching  hold 
of  my  arm.  "  Bob  probably  scented  our  con- 
spiracy, and  being  such  a  child  of  Nature,  her 
first  impulse  was  to  escape  from  anything  so  dia- 
bolically unnatural  —  you  understand  me,  I  mean 
that  she  scented  the  conspiracy  and  resented  the 
omission.  It  is  a  peculiarity  of  Bob's,  that  she 
must  not  only  suspect  everything,  but  must  have 
a  finger  in  everything.  I  think  you  will  have  to 
tell  her  all  about  your  paternal  anxiety,  and  ask 

126 


THE   CAPITULATION    OF   POLLY 

her  to  help  you.  I  have  great  faith  in  Bob's 
caprices  and  inscrutable  impulses." 

"  I  wish  you  would  suggest  some  possible  way 
in  which  her  delightful  caprices  would  be  of  any 
assistance  to  a  slightly  perturbed  father." 

"  One  can  never  tell.  She  might  keep  Mr. 
Fancher  at  a  distance.  I  have  already  observed 
that  he  avoids  her  as  he  would  an  X-ray.  Has 
it  occurred  to  you  that  Mr.  Fancher  needs  a 
gentle  repulsion,  such  as  the  duties  of  hospitality 
forbid  me  to  exercise  ?  " 

"  From  the  somewhat  casual  observation  that  I 
made  of  Mr.  Fancher,  I  think  that  gentleness 
would  play  a  part  of  no  more  importance  with 
him  than  does  water  on  a  duck's  back.  I  hope  I 
am  not  disparaging  your  guest." 

"  Ah,  you  have  been  observing  him." 

"  I  passed  the  time  of  day  with  him,  and  he 
managed  to  impart  to  that  amenity  a  decided  dis- 
regard of  delicacy." 

The  Doctor  laughed.  "  Bob,"  he  said,  "  is  a 
most  extraordinary  buffer.  If  I  thought  there 
was  any  danger  of  my  colliding  with  Mr.  Fancher, 
I'd  hang  Bob  over  my  gunwale." 

"  I  wish  you  would  tell  me  explicitly  in  what 
way  I  can  avail  myself  of  Polly's  talents." 

"  I  don't  know  that  I  can  tell  you  why  a  pinch 
of  salt  adds  to  the  zest  of  one's  appetite.  I  have 
an  idea  that  Polly  belongs  more  entirely  to  the 
natural  order  than  we  do,  and  as  the  consequences 
which  we  are  trying  to  avoid  belong  also  to  that 
order,  we  might  baffle  Nature  herself  with  an  alliance 

127 


TANGLED  UP  IN  BEULAH  LAND 

with  Nature.  Bob  probably  sees  through  us  both, 
and  is  piqued  that  she  has  been  left  out  of  the 
conspiracy.  Besides,  with  the  mingled  impudence 
and  acumen  of  her  sex,  she  detests  Fancher." 

"Why  do  you  think  so?"  I  asked,  feeling  a 
sudden  throb  of  kindliness  toward  Bob. 

"  Don't  ask  me  why  I .  think.  Great  Scott, 
man,  when  one  is  up  to  his  ears  in  a  day  like 
this,  he  doesn't  try  to  find  out  why  he  thinks. 
He  just  keeps  on  thinking,  very  much  as  he  keeps 
on  breathing." 

And  the  Doctor  threw  out  his  ample  breast  and 
took  in  an  extra  supply  of  oxygen. 

"  Doctor,"  I  said,  "  what  do  you  suppose  Miss 
lo's  views  are  with  respect  to  Mr.  Fancher? " 

"  Absolutely  nebulous  and  abeyant,"  he  re- 
plied, "waiting  like  chaos  to  be  shaped  by  some 
imperative  will.  lo  is  the  most  plastic  arrange- 
ment of  beauty  and  inertia  you  ever  saw.  So 
imagine  my  anxiety  and,  to  some  extent,  my 
responsibility." 

Here  we  came  within  sight  of  the  house  where 

O 

our  renegade  had  taken  refuge,  and  I  exclaimed :  — 
"  Why,  I've  been  here  before ;  eaten  pie  and 
milk  here." 

"  So  much  the  better,"  said  the  Doctor.  "  We'll 
just  clap  her  straw  hat  on,  take  her  by  the  ear, 
and  march  her  back.  When  you  get  a  good 
opportunity  take  her  into  your  confidence  dis- 
creetly." 

On  arriving  at  the  gate  we  were  confronted  by 
two  malicious  mastiffs  that  had  the  run  of  the 

128 


THE    CAPITULATION    OF    POLLY 

yard,  and  that  warned  us  off  with  a  superfluous 
show  of  white  teeth  and  a  duet  of  growls. 

The  Doctor  expressed  some  indignant  astonish- 
ment that  the  dogs  were  not  chained  up,  and  then 
shouted  "House"  in  summoning  tones.  Im- 
mediately there  appeared  at  an  upper  window  the 
pert  face  of  Polly  herself,  holding  the  curtain 
away  with  a  quick  hand  and  leaning  eagerly  out. 

"  Come  down  here,  you  baggage,"  cried  the 
Doctor,  "and  shut  up  these  dogs." 

"  Gracious,  how  you  frightened  me,"  said  Polly. 
"  I  thought  you  were  tramps.  Did  you  bring 
my  trunk?  How  kind  —  " 

"  No  nonsense.  I've  come  to  fetch  you  back. 
Put  your  hat  on." 

Polly  leaned  her  elbows  on  the  window-sill. 
"There  comes  Boylston,"  she  said,  "  how  good 
of  him.  He's  bringing  the  trunk." 

We  looked  round  and  presently  up  drove  the 
family  phaeton,  with  "  Mother"  and  Boylston  in  it. 
The  old  lady  leaned  out  and,  seeing  us  at  the  gate, 
said  in  an  explanatory  way  :  — 

"  I'll  take  her  back  with  me." 

"  How  good  of  you  all,"  said  Polly.  "  But  you 
know  I  can't  come  down.  I  am  just  as  much 
afraid  of  the  dogs  as  you  are,  and  if  I  came  down 
they  would  be  sure  to  tear  the  only  innocent  per- 
son there  is  to  pieces.  Marjory  has  gone  to  the 
field,  and  she  always  lets  them  loose  till  she  comes 
back." 

The  doctor  leaned  on  the  gate-post  and  shouted 
to  the  dogs  to  be  quiet,  and  "  Mother  "  tried  to 

129 


TANGLED    UP   IN    BEULAH    LAND 

coax  them  with  much  sibilation  from  the  vehicle, 
while  Boylston,  who  was  assuring  the  horse  that 
there  was  no  burglary  intended  despite  the  noise, 
also  tried  to  whistle  amicably  between.  I  looked 
at  the  scene  and  especially  at  the  bright  face  so 
leisurely  taking  it  all  in  at  the  window,  and  said 
to  the  Doctor  :  — 

"  It  seems  to  me  that  this  is  one  of  those  occa- 
sions when  it  would  disturb  the  natural  order  to 
interfere.  There  is  somebody  else  coming  up  the 
road,"  and  sure  enough,  presently  Miss  lo  and 
my  disinterested  son  appeared  on  horseback  and 
joined  the  group,  thereby  increasing  the  clamour 
of  the  dogs,  that  were  evidently  not  used  to  such 
convocations.  Charlie  regarded  the  family  gather- 
ing with  considerable  awe,  I  thought,  but  Polly 
clapped  her  hands. 

"  What  a  surprise  party,"  she  cried.  "  Stand 
still  a  moment.  I  have  it." 

Then  she  disappeared  from  the  window. 

"It's  all  right,"  said  the  Doctor.  "She  has 
gone  to  get  her  hat.  We  ought  to  have  brought 
a  shotgun  and  a  pair  of  handcuffs." 

Boylston,  who  had  tied  his  horse,  approached 
the  fence  coaxingly,  and  Polly,  calling  to  him  from 
the  window,  asked  him  to  stand  a  little  more  on 
one  side. 

"  Come,  come,"  cried  the  Doctor,  "  never  mind 
your  frills.  We  can't  stand  here  all  day." 

"  Just  a  moment,"  said  Polly.  "  Keep  your 
eye  on  that  chimney.  All  right  now  —  there  you 
are,"  and  we  all  heard  the  click,  and  knew  that 

130 


THE    CAPITULATION    OF    POLLY 

the  captive  maiden  had  snapped  us  with  her 
camera. 

"  It  was  such  a  splendid  opportunity,"  she 
said  afterward,  "  to  catch  the  whole  family  at 
bay,  with  HIM  in  the  foreground,  gnashing  his 
teeth,  and  everybody  staring  into  the  sky,  as  if  a 
new  star  had  appeared." 

But  it  was  reserved  for  Charlie  to  put  the  finish- 
ing touch  of  absurdity  on  this  picture.  He  came 
up  to  the  fence,  saying  quite  demurely  :  "  I  sup- 
pose you  all  want  to  go  in.  I  don't  think  these 
dogs  are  dangerous,"  and,  putting  his  hand  over 
the  rail,  he  patted  them  on  their  heads,  and  with 
a  word  or  two  transformed  them  into  tail-wagging 
lambs.  "  I'll  just  chain  them  up,"  he  said,  open- 
ing the  gate  and  striding  off  round  the  house  with 
the  two  animals  at  his  heels. 

"  Now,  then,"  cried  the  Doctor,  "  you  stand 
here  at  the  gate,  and  Boylston,  you  guard  the  rear 
exit,  while  I  take  the  position  by  storm." 

"  You  had  better  let  me  go  in,"  said  Mother, 
"  and  help  her  arrange  herself." 

"  Nonsense,''"  said  the  Doctor.  "  I  will  arrange 
her  in  short  order,"  and  in  he  strode. 

"  It  seems  to  me,"  said  lo,  "  that  Mr.  Charles 
is  better  than  any  of  you  in  arranging  matters." 

"  Oh,  when  it  comes  to  dogs,"  I  said,  "  he  al- 
ways did  show  the  stuff  he  was  made  of.  It's 
what  the  Doctor  calls  fraternization." 

Our  colloquy  was  interrupted  by  the  appearance 
of  the  Doctor  leading  the  captive  on  his  arm. 
She  looked  very  demure,  but  stepped  rather  airily 


TANGLED  UP  IN  BEULAH  LAND 

for  a  prisoner,  and  preserved,  I  thought,  some 
kind  of  latent  defiance  in  the  tilt  of  that  chip 
hat. 

"  Please,"  she  said,  making  a  great  show  of 
struggling  with  the  Doctor's  arm,  "please — I 
see  one  friend  in  the  crowd — let  me  go  to  him," 
and  she  kissed  her  hand  to  me. 

"  You  just  get  in  to  that  phaeton  and  do  as  I 
tell  you,  you  absconding  and  ineffable  little  in- 
grate,"  said  the  Doctor. 

Once  in  the  phaeton,  guarded  by  the  old  lady 
beside  her,  the  Doctor  arranged  the  bodyguard. 
He  and  I  walked  Indian  file  on  one  side,  Charlie 
and  Boylston  on  the  other,  lo  bringing  up  the  rear 
with  the  two  horses,  and  thus  protected,  the  cor- 
tege moved  in  solemn  procession  down  the  road, 
its  majesty  broken  only  at  times  by  little  flute- 
like  bursts  from  the  phaeton. 

When  the  captive  was  once  more  landed  in 
triumph  on  the  Doctor's  front  veranda,  I  think 
there  were  many  upbraidings  and  explanations  and 
evasions  all  tangled  up  in  soprano,  from  which  the 
masculine  conspirators  kept  well  away.  But  an 
hour  or  two  later,  when  matters  had  apparently 
fallen  into  their  old  rut  and  everybody  seemed 
to  have  recovered  his  and  her  former  buoyancy, 
except  Charlie,  who  was  moping  somewhere 
round  the  carriage  house,  trying  to  make  up  for 
the  loss  of  New  York  excitement  by  the  vivacity 
of  Boylston  and  the  animation  of  the  horses, 
then  it  was  I  caught  Bob  on  the  fly  and  pinned 
her  down  on  the  rose  bench.  She  appeared  to  be 

132 


THE   CAPITULATION   OF   POLLY 

a  little  more  nervous  than  usual,  I  thought,  and 
showed  an  inclination  to  escape  me. 

"  Polly,"  I  said,  "  the  first  time  that  we  had  a 
talk,  you  invited  me  to  be  confidential  with  you. 
I  have  just  come  to  the  conclusion  that  I  should 
have  taken  you  at  your  word." 

That  did  not  allay  her  nervousness.  "  Oh, 
don't  bother  with  it,"  she  said.  "  I  was  too 
rude." 

"  Not  a  bit.  I  was  too  reserved.  The  Doctor 
thinks  I  ought  to  tell  you  everything." 

"HE?     Everything?     Me?" 

"  Yes  ;  what  makes  you  so  apprehensive  ?  I 
am  old  enough  to  be  your  father,  and  you  are 
young  enough  to  be  my  daughter.  You  might 
even,  as  a  matter  of  friendship,  regard  Charlie  as 
your  brother." 

"  Father,"  she  repeated  rather  softly,  looking 
up  at  me,  and  pulling  in  her  under  lip  as  was 
her  habit.  "It  sounds  a  little  too  sacred  for  a 
pretence." 

"  You  suspected  that  I  had  run  away  from 
something  when  I  came  down  here.  You  were 
right.  Now  let  me  tell  you  just  what  it  was." 

"  Oh,"  said  she,  quite  impulsively,  "  why  not 
write  it  ?  It  would  be  ever  so  much  nicer  in  a 
letter  —  and  then  I  can  study  it." 

"  No.  I  am  going  to  tell  you  all  about  it  now. 
You  see,  Charlie  and  I  are  a  little  different  from 
most  persons.  We  have  always  been  close  to- 
gether, and  think  a  great  deal  more  of  each  other 
than  father  and  son  usually  do.  I  suppose  his 

133 


TANGLED  UP  IN  BEULAH  LAND 

future  and  happiness  are  really  more  important 
to  me  than  anything  else  in  life ;  you  can  under- 
stand that." 

"  Yes,"  she  said,  "  in  a  father  that  sounds  all 
right." 

"  Oh,  Charlie  feels  the  same  way.  I  don't  be- 
lieve he  would  deliberately  do  anything  against 
my  wishes ;  but  Charlie  is  young,  you  know,  and 
might  do  something  before  he  knew  it." 

"  Did  he  ?  " 

"  Why,  yes.  There  wasn't  anything  wrong, 
you  understand.  It  was  only  foolish.  Young 
men  cannot  always  see  as  far  ahead  as  their 
fathers.  Try  and  imagine  yourself  his  sister, 
and  then  I  am  sure  you  will  take  my  view  of  it. 
Remember  that  I  had  been  for  so  many  years 
planning  and  preparing  and  watching  and  guard- 
ing, and  then  you  will  see  how  it  affected  me." 

"  What  did  ?  " 

"Why,  his,  —  how  shall  I  put  it?  —  his  get- 
ting estranged  from  me  a  little, — just  a  little,  you 
know.  Being  deluded,  beguiled,  —  only  through 
his  eyes,  you  know.  He  allowed  himself  to  get 
acquainted  with  a  girl  in  the  theatre.  I  don't  be- 
lieve he  stopped  to  think,  or  he  wouldn't  have  done 
it.  Boys  are  so  easily  caught  by  a  passing  illusion, 
and,  poor  fellows,  they  have  no  means  of  knowing 
just  how  unworthy  it  may  be.  Probably  he  thought 
she  was  an  angel,  and  all  that  sort  of  thing,  just 
because  of  her  glitter  and  shallow  prettiness." 

"  Was  she  pretty  ?  " 

"  I  suppose  she  was.     But  all  girls  are  more  or 

134 


THE    CAPITULATION    OF    POLLY 

less  pretty  to  young  men.  She  was  probably 
nothing  more  than  the  ordinary  creature  of  plu- 
mage and  vanity,  the  kind  that  one  expects  to  find 
in  a  theatre.  Now  if  it  were  your  brother  and  I 
were  telling  you  this  about  him,  you  would  feel 
just  as  I  do,  wouldn't  you  ?  But  Charlie  is  made 
of  such  excellent  stuff  that  I  knew  if  I  could  only 
get  him  away  where  some  other  and  better  ideal 
could  fill  his  eye,  don't  you  know,  he  would 
rise  to  the  situation.  There's  nothing  so  effectual 
for  this  kind  of  disease  as  change  of  air  and  scene, 
and  when  my  old  friend  the  Doctor  invited  us 
down  here,  fortune  favoured  me  by  presenting  such 
new  attractions  as  I  feel  sure  would  create  in  any 
young  man's  mind  a  new  standard  of  beauty  and 
character.  Remember  that  the  Doctor  and  I  are 
old  and  intimate  friends,  and  when  he  told  me 
that  he  was  anxious  to  save  lo  from  the  same 
mistakes  of  youth  that  beset  my  boy,  —  and,  if 
you  will  permit  me  to  say  so,  my  dear  girl,  that 
beset  all  young  persons,  —  you  can  imagine  how 
providential  it  all  seemed.  Can't  you  turn  round 
and  let  me  see  your  face  when  I  am  trying  my 
best  to  be  confidential  ?  Just  think  what  a  dis- 
aster it  would  have  been  if  Charlie  in  a  moment 
of  heedlessness  had  made  an  alliance  with  some 
dreadful  woman  in  a  theatre ;  and  young  men  are 
all  liable  to  do  these  insane  things.  I  have  been 
young  myself,  Polly." 

"  Have  you,  really  ?  "  said  Polly,  in  a  tone  of 
doubt. 

"  Sure.     Don't  you  feel  the  least  bit  of  sym- 

'35 


TANGLED  UP  IN  BEULAH  LAND 

• 

pathy  for  me  in  my  experience.     I  had  an  idea 
that  you  could  help  me." 

"  O  dear  me,"  said  Polly,  "  I  don't  see  what  you 
brought  me  back  here  for.  What  can  I  do  ?  " 

O 

"You  are  so  quick  and  clever,  and  then  you 
are  closer  to  lo  than  anybody  else  can  be  at  pres- 
ent ;  and  it  is  all  such  a  plain-sailing  duty  for 
every  one  of  us.  You  seem  to  have  lost  all  your 
desire  to  be  confidential.  What  is  it  I  have  done 
to  forfeit  your  candour  ?  " 

She  was  silent  a  moment,  as  if  trying  to  think. 
Then  she  said  rather  hesitatingly  :  — 

"  Was  the  New  York  person  —  Mr.  Charles's 
sweetheart,  wasn't  that  what  you  called  her?" 

"  No,  I  didn't  call  her  that." 

"  Was  she  irredeemably  unworthy  ?  " 

"  I  didn't  say  that  either.  She  wasn't  in  Charlie's 
class,  that  is  all,  and  he  will  forget  her — he  must." 

"  For  lo's  sake." 

"  Let  us  say  for  his  own  sake  and  his  father's." 

"And  I  am  to  help  in  it.  You  ought  to  see 
that  it  is  impossible." 

"  I  cannot  see  why,"  I  said,  taking  her  little 
hand  coaxingly,  and  remembering  how  it  had  gone 
up  round  my  neck  there  at  the  river.  "  I  wish  you 
would  tell  me  why  you  cannot." 

She  gave  something  like  a  little  gulp.  I  felt  it 
come  down  to  her  fingers.  But  she  did  not  turn 
round. 

"Because  — "  she  said,  and  then  she  took  a 
fresh  breath  — "  because  I  am  the  disreputable 
New  York  girl  herself." 

136 


CHAPTER   VIII 


IN    WHICH    I    STRUGGLE  WITH    MY    OWN    WEB 

I^@  WISH  I  could  describe  with  ex- 
<^&  actness  how  this  large  clap  of 
^§\  thunder  from  a  small  pink  cloud 
AJisx  affected  me.  I  suppose  the  best 
iPfC  way  to  express  it  would  be  to 
^***'  avoid  the  idea  of  thunder  and 
stick  to  that  of  lightning,  for  I  was  not  so  much 
stunned  as  illuminated.  A  great  deal  of  what 
ought  to  have  been  perplexity  disappeared  in 
a  flash.  Presto,  the  whole  business  cleared  up 
at  a  stroke,  as  if  all  of  the  facts  had  been  set  in 
order  on  a  dark  stage,  and  only  awaited  this  elec- 
tric flash.  Whatever  may  have  been  my  imme- 
diate surprise,  I  had  no  opportunity  to  express  it 
to  my  companion,  for  she  pulled  her  hand  away 
from  mine  suddenly,  and  disappeared,  leaving 
only  a  few  flurries  of  rose  leaves. 

137 


TANGLED  UP  IN  BEULAH  LAND 

I  sat  there  a  few  moments  and  made  an  inven- 
tory of  the  details  that  came  into  view.  Her  pre- 
science, her  intuition,  when  I  first  met  her —  they 
looked  rather  shabby  now.  Her  protean  vivacity 
and  frankness  —  of  course,  if  she  was  an  actress, 
they  were  her  stock  in  trade.  Her  coquetry  with 
me  and  all  that  silly  business  in  the  river  —  part 
of  the  comedy  of  cajolement.  What  craft  in  tell- 
ing me  that  she  had  to  earn  her  living  and 
bedevilling  me  into  praise  of  it.  Her  rogu- 
ish ingenuousness  in  throwing  the  roses  into 
Charlie's  face  —  that  was  nothing  more,  after  all, 
than  the  familiarity  of  two  comedians. 

I  did  not  at  the  moment  ask  myself  how  the 
girl  of  the  theatre  came  to  be  down  there,  lying 
in  wait  for  me,  though  that  was  a  question  that, 
more  than  any  other,  needed  explanation.  What 
just  then  appeared  to  me  to  be  of  more  immediate 
concern  than  anything  else  was  my  sudden  flow- 
ering out  as  the  dupe  of  the  whole  group,  every 
one  of  whom  appeared  to  have  entered  into  an 
easy  understanding  to  fool  me  to  the  top  of  my 
bent.  Perhaps  in  any  other  mood  I  should  have 
regarded  the  disclosure  as  something  in  the  nature 
of  a  practical  joke,  of  which  I  was  the  victim,  to 
be  put  by  without  annoyance.  But  as  I  had  set 
out  with  what  I  considered  superior  craft  to  bring 
things  about  to  my  own  satisfaction,  I  could  not 
very  well  at  the  first  view  help  feeling  that  my 
own  doting  imbecility  was  the  largest  element 
on  exhibition,  and  some  degree  of  pride  and 
pique  must  be  allowed  to  a  man  of  my  years  who 

138 


I    STRUGGLE   WITH    MY   OWN   WEB 

does  not  like  to  be  outwitted  even  by  his  affec- 
tions. 

I  think  I  sat  there  some  time  feeling  that 
nothing  but  sheer  slang  would  accurately  express 
my  condition,  and  calling  myself,  confidentially, 
"  a  purblind  chump."  But  this  easy  labelling  of 
my  discomfiture  did  not  disentangle  anything. 
It  did  not  seem  possible  that  the  Doctor  had  lent 
himself  to  the  cheap  trick  of  befooling  me,  and 
yet  how  was  it  possible  for  him  not  to  know  what 
was  going  on  in  his  own  establishment.  How  in 
thunder,  I  asked  myself,  did  my  unsophisticated 
son  manage  the  wires  so  adroitly.  There  was  no 
answer  to  this  conundrum  to  be  pumped  out  of 
my  consciousness.  But  I  must  say  that  my  mo- 
mentary irritation  and  resentment  were  accompa- 
nied by  a  very  distinct  sense  of  loss  that,  to  tell 
the  truth,  was  more  poignant  than  anything  else. 
It  was  not  alone  that  my  Comrade  had  suddenly 
withdrawn  from  the  atmosphere  of  affectionate 
frankness  that  I  had  created  for  him,  and  gone 
without  hesitation  into  the  common  arena  of  de- 
ception ;  but  a  sprite,  a  real,  live,  and  lovable 
piece  of  ingenuous  girlhood,  that  I  had  warmed 
to  with  all  the  ardent  susceptibility  of  years,  had 
shaken  her  skirts  and  resolved  herself  into  a  com- 
mon actress,  intent  only  on  making  me  a  victim 
of  her  intrigue.  Such  a  discovery  always  con- 
geals a  man's  best  judgment,  turning  even  his 
limpid  magnanimity  into  sharp  crystals. 

It  was  growing  late  in  the  afternoon.  I  sat 
there  on  the  rose  bench  feeling  a  new  sense  of 


TANGLED  UP  IN  BEULAH  LAND 

loneliness  stealing  over  me.  After  all,  what  folly 
it  was  to  try  and  keep  alive  and  fresh  the  zest- 
ful  companionships  which  one  has  outgrown. 
The  things  that  one  cherishes  most  must  go  on 
their  way.  It  is  the  penalty  of  age  to  be  de- 
serted. What  was  it  the  Doctor  had  so  recently 
preached  to  me  about  turning  the  penalty  into  a 
privilege  and  giving  up.  Must  a  man  then  tear 
out  of  his  heart  all  that  keeps  him  alive,  and 
say  to  it  cheerfully,  Go  your  way  —  my  share 
in  it  all  is  relinquished  ?  What  a  supreme  and 
protective  philosophy  such  a  man  as  Major 
Downs  possessed.  Those  practical  old  fellows 
kept  their  systems  free  from  these  undergrowths, 
and  escaped  from  the  dotage  of  the  sensibili- 
ties into  the  sufficient  routine  of  dinners,  and 
cards,  and  good  wholesome  tittle-tattle,  enjoying 
the  procession  calmly  from  the  safe  Club  win- 
dow. 

I  looked  at  the  roses,  hanging  all  round  me 
with  odorous  opulence.  They  wore  a  new  as- 
pect of  evanescence,  and  every  light  breath  of  air 
bade  them  fall  to  pieces  and  litter  the  ground 
with  outworn  beauty.  The  bees  far  up  the  wall 
of  the  house  kept  up  a  dull  moan.  It  was  like 
the  movement  of  some  irresistible,  ongoing  stream. 
A  few  swallows  flickered  across  the  sky,  to  and 
fro,  with  vagrant  uncertainty.  The  big  shadow 
of  the  house  reached  eastward.  I  could  see  its 
peak  crawling  across  the  highway,  as  if  to  empha- 
size the  passing  of  the  afternoon,  or  perhaps,  with 
the  merciless  symbolism  of  all  visible  things,  only 

140 


I    STRUGGLE    WITH    MY   OWN   WEB 

to  picture  for  me  what    might  be  crawling  over 
my  own  heart. 

Bah  !  you  will  say.  For  a  man  of  your  age,  this 
is  the  very  effervescence  of  decline.  Up,  man,  and 
about  your  duty,  if  you  have  any.  It  is  not  the 
role  of  maturity  to  sit  in  rose  bowers  and  moon. 

If  you  are  saying  this,  it  is  a  coincidence,  for  it 
is  just  what  I  was  saying  myself,  as  I  got  up  and 
struck  the  rose  vine  with  my  cane,  a  little  vindic- 
tively, only  to  bring  down  a  shower  of  petals  as 
if  I  deserved  to  be  snowed  under,  pinkly. 

But  you  are  to  have  a  little  patience  with  ma- 
turity, seeing  that  you  are  young  and  heedless. 
It  is  only  a  man's  weaknesses,  after  all,  that  en- 
title him  to  your  attention.  Dear  me,  if  we  were 
all  strong  like  you,  where  would  be  our  tangle 
and  our  romance  ? 

I  walked  off  vigorously,  because  muscular  exer- 
cise, without  our  knowing  it,  is  a  faucet  when  the 
enclosed  feelings  are  too  heady.  But  my  vigorous 
step  did  not  prevent  me  from  keeping  on  the 
other  side  of  the  junipers,  so  that  my  condition 
should  not  be  observed  from  the  house.  Thus  it 
was  that  I  coupled  vigour  of  limb  with  a  sneaking 
desire  to  be  alone  with  my  discomfiture. 

Perhaps  the  circulation  of  the  blood  helped  to 
clear  the  emotional  sky  and  stir  up  my  volition, 
for  I  said,  "  Ho,  ho,  I  am  only  so  much  waste 
material  to  be  used  by  others.  My  views  and 
desires  are  entitled  only  to  politeness.  Very  well, 
my  youthful  plotters,  by  Jove,  there's  Coldcream 
who  has  to  be  counted  with." 

141 


TANGLED    UP    IN    BEULAH    LAND 

I  believe  I  stopped  and  put  my  hand  on  the 
opposite  arm,  as  if  I  had  a  card  up  my  sleeve. 
But  the  act,  absurd  as  it  was,  brought  its  own 
reaction,  as  if  I  had  assured  myself  that  there 
really  was  no  card  there. 

"  Is  there  a  Coldcream  ?  "  I  asked  aloud  of  a 
bird  that  was  sitting  on  the  top  of  a  shadbush, 
"  or  is  she  another  vagary  made  for  the  occasion?' 
The  bird  said  nothing,  and  I  replied  to  myself, 
(l  I  will  write  to  Coldcream  to-night,"  and  just 
then  the  note  of  a  tanager  came  across  to  me  from 
the  trees  at  the  river,  as  if  the  summer  had  an- 
swered me  with  a  bell. 

I  would  go  over  to  the  Swirl  and  think  it  all 
out  with  a  severe  sense  of  duty,  and  thus  be  able  to 
meet  circumstances  with  the  austere  complacency 
of  a  disciplined  mind.  Then  I  strode  along  again 
a.s  I  felt  my  resolution  reaching  from  my  limbs 
mto  my  mind,  occasionally  looking  back  just  as 
though  Coldcream  might  be  pursuing  me. 

The  portal  of  the  woods  was  carpeted  with  moss, 
and  I  entered  it  noiselessly  and  preoccupied  with 
my  own  musings,  to  come  in  sight  of  the  Swirl, 
and,  as  I  live,  Polly  herself,  sitting  by  the  side  of 
the  pagoda  with  her  head  in  her  hands,  Niobe 
like,  all  tears.  A  more  disconsolate  little  wreck  I 
never  before  saw  in  such  a  frame  of  gold  and 
green.  Before  she  was  aware  of  it,  I  was  upon 
her,  and  had  sat  down  beside  her,  putting  out  one 
authoritative  hand  as  gently  and  firmly  as  I  could, 
to  keep  her  from  going  off  in  another  flurry. 

"  Young  woman,"  I  said,  calling  to  my  gravity 
142 


1    STRUGGLE    WITH    MY   OWN   WEB 

the  full  aid  of  the  vernacular,  "  we  must  have  this 
thing  out.  I  suppose  you  thought  I  was  only 
made  to  dance  a  gavotte  with." 

"  Why  couldn't  you  let  me  alone  ?  "  she  said, 
turning  a  wet  face  full  upon  me.  It  reminded  me 
so  clearly  of  those  roses  all  falling  to  pieces,  that 
it  seemed  as  if  I  had  used  my  speech,  as  I  had 
used  my  cane,  and  she  was  shrinking,  shattered, 
from  the  blow. 

"  I  do  not  feel  guilty  of  having  designedly 
intruded  upon  you  at  any  time,"  I  said ;  "  I  was 
willing  from  the  first  to  let  you  alone." 

Perhaps  I  was  overarming  myself  against  her 
vivacious  tongue  with  cool  severity.  But  she 
looked  so  helpless  that  I  felt  instantly  sure  that 
her  vivacity  had  all  tumbled  to  pieces  like  those 
rose  petals. 

"  I  packed  my  trunk  and  went  away.  What 
did  you  bring  me  back  for?  "  she  asked. 

"  Polly,"  I  replied,  "  you  must  see  that  some 
explanation  is  proper  on  your  part.  You  made  a 
pretty  show  of  candour  (a  very  good  imitation 
it  was,  too)  when  we  first  met." 

"  And  you  nipped  it  in  the  bud.  I  wanted  to 
tell  you  everything." 

"  Did  you  ?  I  am  glad  to  hear  it.  You  can 
do  it  now." 

"Oh,  I  am  tired  of  it  all  now,  and  I  am  not 
of  sufficient  account  to  anybody  to  bother  with 
it." 

"  But  remember,  that  I  still  consider  myself  of 
sufficient  account  to  expect  it,  and  Charlie  too 


TANGLED  UP  IN  BEULAH  LAND 

—  he    is    of  sufficient   account,   at    least    in  my 
estimation." 

"  Then  why  don't  you  go  to  him  ?  You  prob- 
ably understand  him  better  than  you  do  me.  Did 
he  ever  deceive  you  ?  " 

"  I  was  proud  to  think  that  he  never  did.  But 
that  was  before  he  met  you,  Polly." 

"  And  I  am  a  deceiving,  frivolous,  mischief- 
making  thing,  bent  on  ruining  him." 

"  Do  sit  down,  Polly,  and  try  and  act  like  a 
sensible  woman.  I  did  not  say  anything  like 
that.  I  am  trying  my  best  to  find  out  what  you 
are." 

"  I  am  just  a  poor  innocent  girl  who  never 
wanted  to  deceive  anybody,  and  between  you  all 
I  feel  like  a  guilty  wretch." 

"  But  if  you  will  only  sit  down  and  make  a 
clean  breast  of  it,  I  am  sure  you  will  feel  better. 
I  shall." 

In  spite  of  myself  I  could  not  help  admiring 
her  as  she  stood  there,  in  a  piquant  attitude  or 
defence,  her  head  up  saucily,  and  her  little  hand- 
kerchief in  her  hand  ready  at  intervals  to  give  her 
eyes  a  dab. 

"  You  make  a  great  mistake,"  she  said.  "  I 
refuse  to  be  a  culprit  and  make  a  confession.  I 
haven't  done  a  thing  to  be  ashamed  of." 

"Now,  now,  Polly,"  I  rejoined,  as  I  shook  my 
finger  monitorily  at  her,  "  you  know  very  well 
that  you  have  committed  two  unpardonable  sins. 
In  the  first  place,  you  made  Charlie  fall  in  love 
with  you." 

144 


I    STRUGGLE   WITH    MY   OWN   WEB 

"  I  made  him  ?  " 

"Yes.  And  it  seems  that  would  not  satisfy 
you,  but  you  must  carry  your  mischief  even 
farther." 

"I  must?     How  must  I?" 

"  Why,  you  had  to  make  his  old  father  fall  in 
love  with  you  too." 

She  had  retreated  some  feet  away,  and  this 
acknowledgment  seemed  to  catch  her,  as  the 
sailors  say,  "all  abaft"  as  she  stood  there.  All 
those  variant  emotions  of  which  her  nature  was 
composed  tangled  themselves  up  in  her  inquiring 
face,  and  so  pretty  was  the  look  of  wonder  coming 
through  half  tears,  that  it  is  a  mystery,  now  that 
I  think  of  it,  that  I  did  not  jump  up  and  kiss  her 
then  and  there.  She  sat  down  on  the  root  of  a 
tulip  tree  at  a  safe  distance  from  me,  regarding 
me  with  poised  perplexity,  in  which  there  were 
some  half-drowned  gleams  of  her  old  roguishness 
reviving. 

"What  did  you  come  here  to  Tuskaloo  for?" 
I  asked. 

"  Because  I  belong  here.  What  did  you  come 
for  ?  you  do  not  belong  here." 

"  It  seems  to  me  now,"  I  said,  "  that  I  came 
down  here  because  you  and  Charlie  arranged  it." 

"  What  injustice.  I  told  your  son  in  New 
York  that  I  was  going  home.  I  was  sick  of  New 
York.  I  wanted  to  get  away.  I  am  always  try- 
ing to  get  away  and  everybody  prevents  me.  One 
day  he  came  and  told  me  that  I  could  not  get 
away.  You  were  coming  down  here,  and  he  would 

»45 


TANGLED  UP  IN  BEULAH  LAND 

have  to  come  with  you.  What  had  he  to  do  with 
it  —  what  had  I  to  do  with  it?" 

She  was  fairly  started  now,  and  her  sense  of 
wrong  thawed  her  into  volubility. 

"  When  you  came  here  and  made  your  plans, 
I  tried  to  get  away  again.  I  don't  want  to  in- 
terfere with  anything.  Why  can't  you  let  me 
alone  ?  " 

"  Perhaps,"  I  said  meditatively,  as  I  gazed  into 
the  deep  green  Swirl,  "  perhaps  it's  because  your 
going  away  would  be  the  greatest  interference  of 
all.  I  suppose  Charlie  and  you  have  about  fixed 
everything  in  your  minds,  just  how  it  should  all 
end,  if  other  persons  would  only  let  you  alone. 
You  would  go  off,  and  the  next  thing,  he  would 
go  off  after  you.  My  views  of  the  matter  would 
not  be  of  the  slightest  moment." 

"  You  are  doing  him  a  great  injustice,"  said 
Polly.  "  He  is  a  young  thing  and  cannot  leave 
his  father." 

"  And  you  tried  to  beguile  him  away.  Polly, 
you  are  a  young  thing  yourself.  I  am  sorry  to 
say  you  are  a  disappointment." 

"  So  are  you.  What's  the  use  talking  any  more 
about  it.  We  are  both  disappointments.  Let's 
part." 

"  Oh,  I  don't  see  any  sense  in  that.  Running 
away  will  not  help  matters.  Anyway,  I  don't 
want  you  to  run  away  from  me." 

"  Well,  I  don't  see  how  I  can  run  away  from 
Charlie  without  running  away  from  you." 

"  But  I  want  you  to  help  me  —  and  Charlie. 
146 


You  really  have  his  interest  at  heart,  haven't 
you  ?  " 

"  No,  I  haven't.  I'm  going  to  have  my  own 
interest  at  heart,  and  I'm  not  going  to  be  annoyed 
any  more." 

Up  went  the  handkerchief  for  a  dab,  but  as  her 
head  went  up  at  the  same  time  with  a  saucy  jerk, 
one  action  neutralized  the  other. 

"  Don't  worry,  Polly,"  I  said.  "  These  things 
never  turn  out  as  bad  as  they  at  first  sight  seem 
to  be.  You  will  get  over  it,"  I  added,  with  an 
indulgent  imbecility,  as  I  looked  into  the  Swirl, 
that  was  smoothly  eddying  in  oily  vortices. 

"  Of  course,"  she  replied,  "  I'll  get  out  of  it." 

"  Can  you  get  out  of  it  nicely  ?  " 

"  To  be  sure  I  can.  I  can  go  back  to  New 
York." 

"  To  the  theatre  ?  I  wouldn't  do  that,  after 
leaving  it.  By  the  way,  what  made  you  leave  it?" 

"  I  didn't  like  it." 

"  That  is  not  a  good  reason." 

"  People  would  not  let  me  alone." 

"  Charlie  told  you  he  didn't  like  it  ?  " 

"  No,  he  didn't." 

"  Didn't  he  ?     What  did  he  tell  you  ?  " 

"  He  said  J0#  wouldn't  like  it." 

"  Oh,  you  got  out  because  I  wouldn't  like  it." 

"  But  you  do  like  it  now,  don't  you  ?  " 

"  I  neither  like  nor  dislike  it.  What  annoys 
me  is  that  Charlie  should  have  withdrawn  from 
my  confidence.  He  should  have  told  me  every- 
thing from  the  start." 


TANGLED  UP  IN  BEULAH  LAND 

"  Well,  he  wanted  to,  and  —  I  wouldn't  let 
him." 

"  And  why  wouldn't  you  let  him,  pray  ?  " 

"  Because  I  wanted  to  tell  you  myself." 

"  Oh,  it  was  arranged  between  you  to  tell  me  all 
about  it,  and  you  both  failed  to  do  it." 

"  I  suppose  so.  But  that's  all  done  now.  We 
didn't  know  what  your  plans  were,  and  I  didn't 
know  how  easily  he  could  do  what  you  desired. 
It's  different  now." 

"  What  is  different  ?  " 

"  Charlie." 

"In  what  respect  ?  " 

"  Well,  he  is  beginning  to  see  now  that  he 
ought  to  do  what  you  want  him  to  do.  He 
didn't  see  it  so  clearly  before." 

"  Before  ?      Before  what  ?  " 

"  Before  he  saw  lo." 

"  Do  you  mean  to  tell  me,  Polly,  that  my  son 
has  no  more  strength  of  character  than  to  fall  in 
love  with  every  pretty  face  he  encounters  ?  " 

"  Oh,  it  would  be  very  impolite  to  tell  you  what 
I  think  about  it." 

"I  shall  not  have  him  disparaged,  Polly." 

"  No,  consider  his  filial  duty.  He  has  more 
strength  of  character  than  I  have,  and  more 
father." 

It  took  all  my  mental  power  to  separate  her 
irony  from  her  admiration,  as  she  sat  there  perked 
up  on  the  root  of  the  tulip  tree,  like  a  French 
picture  of  the  seventeenth  century. 

"  I  hope,"  she  said,  "  you  do  not  think  I  am 
148 


I    STRUGGLE   WITH    MY   OWN   WEB 

mean  enough  to  interfere  with  his  duty,  now  that 
it  is  made  plain  to  me." 

"  But  it  isn't  as  plain  to  me,  my  dear,  as  it  was." 

"  No  ? " 

Such  a  composite  and  amorphous  "  No  "  never 
could  have  been  uttered  before.  I  felt  something 
like  a  little  pang  of  pity  as  I  looked  at  her  sitting 
there  bolt  upright,  for  after  all  it  was  a  most  un- 
warrantable proceeding  on  my  part.  I  should 
have  gone  my  way,  and  had  it,  like  a  man,  and 
not  fooled  away  the  time  prying  into  a  girl's 
wholly  unreliable  and  inconsequential  vagaries. 
But  nobody  ever  goes  away  on  such  occasions.  I 
stayed  and  grew  weak  and  indulgent  on  account 
of  the  French  picture. 

"  No,"  I  said,  "  I  don't  think  you  should  go 
away  and  carry  such  mistakes  with  you.  Better 
stay  and  help  me  clear  up  matters.  What  is  that 
bell  ringing  for  ?  " 

"  That  is  your  dinner  —  they  are  waiting  for 
you." 

"  Then  come  along.     Let  us  go  to  dinner." 

"  I  don't  want  any  dinner.  Don't  bother  about 
me." 

"  But  I  shall  bother,"  I  said,  getting  up.  "  I 
shall  not  go  back  without  you.  If  you  do  not 
come  along,  you  will  have  the  whole  household 
out  here  looking  for  you  again,  and  then  our 
little  private  affairs  will  be  betrayed  to  everybody." 

As  she  stood  up  I  approached  her,  seeing  that 
there  was  a  sign  of  irresolution. 

"  Let  me  wipe  your  eyes,"  I  said,  taking  her 
149 


TANGLED   UP   IN   BEULAH    LAND 

handkerchief  and  dipping  it  into  the  Swirl.  "We 
need  not  exhibit  our  feelings  any  more  than  is 
necessary." 

She  let  me  do  some  gentle  dabbing  myself,  and 
looked  up  at  me  half  wonderingly,  like  a  child, 
with  her  handsome  blue  eyes  full  of  a  tender,  liquid 
light,  and  I  thought  to  myself  that  Charlie  was 
not  such  a  fool  after  all.  She  had  another  dry 
handkerchief  handy  with  which  she  wiped  the 
water  from  her  face,  and  while  she  was  doing  it,  I 
leaned  over,  and  before  she  knew  it  had  kissed 
her  on  the  forehead  paternally  and  even  forgiv- 
ingly, and  got  ahead  of  all  protest  by  saying  :  — 

"  Come  along,  now,  you  look  like  the  morning 
star  again." 

She  was  passive  and  unresisting  and  allowed  me 
to  pull  her  arm  under  mine,  and  then  we  started 
on  our  way  back  to  the  house. 

I  tried  to  make  her  feel  that  the  subject  was 
dismissed  for  the  time  being,  but  a  young  woman's 
emotions  are  very  tenacious,  and  my  endeavours  to 
assume  a  light  and  airy  tone  about  irrelevant  things 
were  regarded  somewhat  suspiciously,  I  thought, 
as  more  becoming  an  old  and  practised  deceiver, 
and  her  volubility  did  not  return  at  once.  Just 
before  we  arrived  at  the  house,  I  said :  — 

"  Polly,  no  matter  what  occurs,  there  is  no  good 
reason  why  we  should  not  remain  fast  friends  and 
keep  our  own  counsel,  is  there  ?  " 

"  It  would  be  great  fun  to  keep  one  friend 
through  thick  and  thin,"  she  replied.  "  I  should 
like  to  try  it." 

150 


I    STRUGGLE   WITH    MY   OWN   WEB 

"  So  you  shall.  But  we  mustn't  do  any  acting, 
remember  that." 

We  were  too  late  to  join  the  family  at  dinner, 
and  partook  of  our  meal  tete-a-tete.  Boylston  had 
brought  some  letters  for  me,  which  I  found  upon 
the  table.  I  put  them  in  my  pocket  and  gave  my- 
self entirely  to  the  pleasant  task  of  convincing 
Polly  that  I  had  not  lost  my  good  humour.  It 
was  somewhat  interfered  with  by  "  Mother,"  who 
presently  joined  us  and  evinced  considerable  curi- 
osity, in  her  discreet  way,  about  our  absence  from 
the  family  dinner,  and  I  thought  was  trying  to 
make  out  through  her  spectacles  what  the  exact 
condition  of  Polly's  eyes  was  ;  at  which  that  young 
lady  turned  on  their  electric  vivacity  on  purpose 
to  baffle  her,  and  there  ensued  a  very  pretty  little 
game  of  Hunt  the  Slipper  between  them,  which  I 
admired  very  much. 

"  lo,"  said  Polly,  "  is  out  on  the  rose  bench 
with  Mr.  Charlie,  isn't  she  ?  " 

"  Is  she  ?  "  said  Mother,  meekly.  "  Why,  Mr. 
Fancher  is  in  the  parlour  talking  to  the  Doctor." 

"  Oh,  then  they  are  waiting  there  on  the  bench 
for  him  to  bring  the  news  of  his  interview,"  said 
Polly. 

Before  we  had  finished  our  meal  and  the  candles 
were  lighted,  we  heard  Mr.  Fancher  ride  away, 
and  immediately  after  came  the  sound  of  the 
Doctor's  tread  on  the  afternoon  porch,  and  then 
a  cheery  call  to  us  to  come  out  in  the  twilight. 

I  joined  him,  but  Polly  disappeared  in  another 
direction.  We  sat  down  there  in  the  dying  rose 


TANGLED  UP  IN  BEULAH  LAND 

light,  and  he  told  me  that  Mr.  Fancher  had  been 

O         ' 

to  see  him  with  regard  to  lo.  "  I  guess,"  he  said, 
"  the  matter  will  turn  out  all  right,  so  far  as  we 
are  concerned." 

"  Did  he  make  a  formal  proposal  to  you  ?  " 
"  I  suppose  he  thought  it  was  a  proposal,  but 
it  was  more  like  a  pronunciamento." 

"  He  is  desirous  of  marrying  Miss  lo  ?  " 
"  He  warned  me  that  such  was  his  intention. 
I  thanked  him  for  his  frankness  and  told  him  I 
should  do  everything  in  my  power  to  prevent  it. 
He  wanted  to  know  if  I  had  made  other  arrange- 
ments for  the  young  lady.  I  told  him  I  had.  He 
said  she  was  of  age.  I  acknowledged  it,  but  told 
him  she  was  also  under  bonds.  He  seemed  to 
think  that  he  could  exercise  more  authority  with 
her  than  I  could,  and  I  believe  we  locked  horns  in  a 
gentlemanly  fashion  about  it.  But  he  preserved 
his  good  humour,  and,  to  show  that  he  had  no 
resentment,  invited  my  whole  household  up  to 
their  tournament  at  the  Club  House,  and  I,  not 
to  be  outdone  in  civility,  agreed  to  have  my  whole 
establishment  there." 

"  Doctor,"  I  said,  "  it  seems  to  me  that  a  great 
deal  of  time  might  be  saved  by  ascertaining  the 
young  lady's  views  in  the  matter." 

"  My  dear  sir,"  replied  the  Doctor,  "  I  have 
before  mentioned  the  fact  that  the  young  lady  has 
no  views  —  merely  impressions  —  and  that  is  de- 
cidedly to  our  advantage ;  for,  as  I  understand  it, 
both  you  and  I  have  decided  views.  Mr.  Fancher 
asked  me  very  bluntly  if  I  objected  to  telling  him 

152 


I    STRUGGLE   WITH    MY   OWN   WEB 

in  what  respect  I  thought  his  success  would  be 
disadvantageous  to  the  lady." 

"  Did  you  tell  him  ?  " 

"  I  certainly  did.  I  was  not  going  to  be  out- 
done in  candour  by  the  fellow,  so  I  told  him  that 
if  he  didn't  tire  of  her  in  a  year,  she  would  of  him. 
He  merely  smiled  and  thought  that  was  a  hasty 
conclusion.  We  shook  hands  and  parted  like 
two  business  men  who  intend  to  get  the  best  of 
each  other  if  they  can." 

"  Perhaps,  after  all,"  I  said,  "  the  young  people 
may  be  intended  for  each  other  and  it  would  be 
folly  to  interfere  with  them.  Mr.  Fancher  is  well 
fixed  and  moves  in  good  society." 

"  Confound  it,"  said  the  Doctor,  "  that  sounds 
slightly  pusillanimous  to  me.  We  have  made  up 
our  minds  as  to  the  best  course  to  pursue,  and  now 
you  throw  up  your  hands." 

"  But  I  don't  see  the  case  as  clearly  as  you  do. 
It  may  be  easier  to  stave  off  Mr.  Fancher  than  to 
lure  on  my  son.  You  see  you  have  two  young 
ladies  in  the  house.  I  do  not  say  that  Miss  lo 
is  not  the  most  resplendent  in  personal  charms 
(and  I  felt  a  little  twitch  of  reproach  as  I  said  it 
and  thought  of  Polly's  wet  violet  eyes  looking  up 
into  mine),  but  the  other  young  lady  is  not  desti- 
tute of  attractions." 

"  What —  Bob  ?  "  he  exclaimed,  and  then  went 
to  the  door  and  looked  in  to  see  that  Bob  was  not 
anywhere  about  listening,  and  continued  —  "Bob 
doesn't  figure  in  our  calculations,  and  I  don't 
intend  that  she  shall.  If  she  does,  I'll  pack  her 

'53 


TANGLED  UP  IN  BEULAH  LAND 

off  to  New  York  and  let  her  earn  her  own  liv- 

•      » 

ing. 

It  was  very  evident  from  this  speech  that  the 
Doctor  had  no  part  in  Polly's  intrigue,  and  from 
a  sheer  sense  of  pity  for  her  I  felt  reluctant  to  tell 
him  of  it.  So  I  said  :  — 

"  Our  conclusions  will  be  premature  before  we 
ascertain  which  way  the  tide  sets  —  I  mean  the 
current  of  young  blood.  I  will  have  a  serious 
talk  with  my  son,  and  I  would  suggest  that  you 
pin  Miss  lo  down  to  a  confession,  and  then  we 
can  compare  results." 

The  Doctor's  reply  showed  very  plainly  that, 
sagacious  as  he  was  in  most  worldly  affairs,  he  was 
no  expert  in  dealing  with  love's  young  dream. 
He  had  made  up  his  mind  to  a  match  between 
Miss  lo  and  Charlie,  and  he  regarded  her  in  the 
matter  as  passive  material  quite  incapable  of  seri- 
ously opposing  his  desires. 

"  It  will  not  do,"  he  said,  "  to  let  the  natural 
currents  have  their  own  way,  when  a  little  guidance 
will  bring  them  into  the  proper  channel.  I  regard 
Mr.  Fancher's  bold  declaration  as  an  advantage. 
If  your  son  has  the  slightest  amount  of  spirit,  it 
will  awaken  his  opposition.  It  usually  acts  that 
way,  —  and  you  will  allow  me  to  speak  of  your 
son  as  partaking  of  the  common  qualities  of 
youth." 

"  Alas,  yes,"  I  said,  "  it  was  the  common  quali- 
ties of  youth  that  brought  me  down  here.  At 
least,  I  thought  so." 

"  Then,"    said    the    Doctor,  "  having   escaped 

154 


I    STRUGGLE   WITH    MY   OWN   WEB 

from  the  snare,  the  best  we  can  do  is  to  regulate 
things  with  our  good  sense  for  the  benefit  of  all 
parties.  In  my  profession  we  learn  soon  enough 
that  to  guide  and  assist  Nature  is  the  best  plan. 
We  cannot  destroy  the  appetites,  but  we  can  steer 
them." 

Considering  all  that  Polly  had  said  to  me,  this 
did  not  appear  to  be  a  very  comfortable  conclu- 
sion, and  I  got  as  far  as  to  say,  "  But  Polly, 
Doctor  — "  when  he  cut  me  short  as  usual  with 
an  idiom  :  — 

"  Bob  doesn't  cut  any  ice.  I  reserve  Bob  for 
myself.  I  like  to  have  her  twitter  and  stick  her 
bill  into  matters  that  she  doesn't  understand. 
The  peculiar  charm  of  such  a  woodpecker  is  that 
she  doesn't  require  any  serious  attention." 

After  this  conversation,  which  left  me  in  some- 
what of  a  dilemma,  I  was  desirous  of  having  a 
heart-to-heart  talk  with  my  son,  and  that  night  he 
came  into  my  room  just  as  I  had  pulled  the  letters 
from  my  pocket  and  laid  them  on  the  table.  I 
came  at  him  directly. 

"  Well,  Comrade,  I  saw  you  on  the  rose 
bench  with  Miss  lo  —  making  love?" 

He  looked  at  me  inquiringly.  "  Trying  to  do 
my  duty,"  he  said. 

"  Was  it  painful  ?  " 

"  Well,  no.  I  never  found  it  very  painful  to 
carry  out  your  wishes,  and  in  this  case  it  is  rather 
pleasant.  One  must  kill  time  somehow  down 
here." 

"  Now  look  here,  don't  load  your  responsibility 

155 


TANGLED  UP  IN  BEULAH  LAND 

upon  me.  I  never  had  any  wishes  in  the  matter 
that  you  were  aware  of." 

He  stood  there  looking  at  me  with  the  same 
inquiring  expression.  Then  he  said  :  — 

"  Hasn't  Polly  told  you  ?  " 

"  Yes.     Polly  has  made  a  clean  breast  of  it." 

"  I  hope  you  treated  her  kindly.  It  wasn't  her 
fault." 

"  No.  .It  was  yours.  You  at  least  were  under 
obligations  of  confidence." 

"  I  was  the  victim  —  innocent  victim  —  of  cir- 
cumstances. They  were  your  circumstances." 

"  Mine  ?  " 

"  Why,  yes.  This  was  your  trip,  not  mine.  I 
was  thinking  of  you  in  the  whole  matter.  It 
seemed  to  me  that  you  were  about  to  sacrifice 
yourself." 

I  laughed  somewhat  derisively.  "You  are 
thinking  of  Madame  Coldcream,"  I  said.  "  Dis- 
miss her  —  dismiss  her.  Let's  talk  about  Miss 
lo  —  she's  more  to  the  point." 

"Have  you  dismissed  Madame  Coldcream  ?" 

"  My  boy,  look  here,  —  if  I  dismiss  Madame 
Coldcream,  will  you  dismiss  Polly  ?  " 

"  Good  heavens,  Governor,  that  sounds  as  if 
you  had  made  up  your  mind  to  substitute  Polly 
for  Madame  Coldcream." 

"  Don't  be  frivolous,"  I  said,  with  an  effort  to 
be  stern.  "  Try  and  tell  me  exactly  what  your 
attitude  is  in  this  matter." 

"  I  think  it  is  one  of  filial  obedience,"  and  he 
turned  his  back  on  me  as  he  said  it.  "  I  try  to 

156 


I   STRUGGLE   WITH    MY   OWN   WEB 

adapt  myself  to  your  views,  but  they  change  so 
confoundedly  that  it  is  becoming  difficult." 

This  aggravated  me  a  little,  coming  from  a 
youngster  who  was  ready  at  the  slightest  provo- 
cation to  give  up  one  woman  for  another. 

"  Change  !  "  I  exclaimed.  "  Do  you  mean  to 
tell  me  that  I  would  make  love  to  one  estimable 
young  lady  to-day,  and  make  love  to  another  es- 
timable young  lady  to-morrow,  because  some  one 
desired  it  ?  You  must  have  a  pitiable  notion  of 
my  stability  of  character." 

"  Look  here,  Governor,  it  isn't  a  fair  compari- 
son. You  haven't  a  father." 

"  What  has  that  to  do  with  it  ?  " 

"  Oh,  a  great  deal.  You  ought  to  look  at  the 
thing  practically.  You  certainly  gave  me  to 
understand  that  you  intended  to  marry  Madame 
Coldcream,  because  she  was  such  a  good  manager 
of  financial  affairs,  and  had  such  a  nice  son  who 
wanted  money.  Well,  of  course,  that  put  a  dif- 
ferent face  on  my  affairs.  I  couldn't  marry  a 
poor  girl,  and  I  had  to  look  out  for  one  with  an 
income  to  accommodate  you  and  Madame  Cold- 
cream  and  her  son.  When  I  do  my  best  to  adapt 
myself,  you  change  your  mind  with  regard  to 
marrying  Madame  Coldcream.  You  will  pardon 
me,  there  wasn't  much  rhyme  or  reason  in  your 
choice,  and  there  seems  to  be  less  in  your  change 
of  mind." 

"  Madame  Coldcream  was  a  mere  fantasy,"  I 
exclaimed,  "  and  you  cannot  use  that  respectable 
lady  as  an  excuse.  We  can  dismiss  her,  but  can 

'57 


TANGLED  UP  IN  BEULAH  LAND 

you  dismiss  Polly  without  a  pang  ?  Are  you, 
then,  one  of  those  heartless  men  who  trifle  with 
a  girl's  affections  and  throw  them  aside  at  any 
caprice  ?  " 

"  You  will  have  to  make  some  allowance  for 
me,  Dad.  I  never  had  but  one  example  set  be- 
fore me." 

"Rubbish  —  you  are  talking  nonsense.  My 
feelings  for  that  estimable  woman,  Madame  Cold- 
cream,  were  those  of  respectful  appreciation,  and 
I  have  not  changed  them.  But  as  to  marrying, 
I  can  change  my  views,  I  suppose,  without  any 
recreancy  or  dishonour,  seeing  that  the  whole 
matter  was  one  of  convenience." 

"  Oh,"  said  Charlie,  "  then  you  have  given  up 
that  idea  ? " 

"  Yes,  yes.  Let  us  stick  to  the  really  impor- 
tant matter  in  hand,  which  is  Miss  lo.  Did  you 
know  that  Mr.  Fancher  had  made  an  avowal  to 
the  Doctor  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes.      lo  told  me." 

"  Then  she  knew  it.  What  did  she  say  about 
it?" 

"  I  don't  remember  that  she  said  anything  defi- 
nite. She  seemed  to  regard  it  as  quite  the  regular 
course  of  affairs.  Mr.  Fancher  is  the  fifth  or 
sixth.  I  suppose  these  things  lose  their  edge  in 
time." 

"  Suppose  Mr.  Fancher  gets  her  ?  " 

"  Well,  then,  I  suppose  I  can  change  my  views 
without  any  recreancy,  seeing  that  it  would  be  a 
matter  of  convenience." 

158 


I   STRUGGLE   WITH    MY   OWN   WEB 

"  But  have  you  no  blood,  no  passion,  no  youth- 
ful fire  —  not  a  single  emotion  ?  What  the  deuce 
are  you  yawning  for  ?  " 

"To  tell  you  the  truth,  I'm  a  little  tired  and 
sleepy.  You  will  pardon  me,  Dad,  but  the  sudden 
disappearance  of  Madame  Coldcream  leaves  me  a 
little  limp." 

"  Very  well,"  I  said,  with  a  strong  effort  at 
sternness,  "  go  to  bed.  But  to-morrow  I  expect 
you  to  bring  Polly  and  let  me  talk  to  the  two  of 
you,  and  stop  this  disgraceful  business  somehow. 
And  I  don't  want  to  hear  any  more  about  Madame 
Coldcream.  Good  night.  I  am  going  to  read  my 
letters." 

"  Good  night,  Dad,"  he  said,  and,  coming  up 
behind  me,  he  put  his  arm  familiarly  round  my 
neck  and  added:  "We  were  awfully  jolly  in  our 
New  York  quarters,  before  Madame  Coldcream 
and  the  rest  of  them  interfered  with  us.  Sup- 
pose we  go  back." 

"  No,  sir,"  I  said,  bringing  my  fist  down  on 
the  table  to  preserve  the  air  of  grimness.  "  No, 
sir  —  we  stay  here  and  fight  it  out.  Good  night." 

I  settled  down  in  my  chair  and  opened  the  first 
letter.  It  was  from  my  half-sister,  Mrs.  Petunia 
Dewey,  and  this  is  what  it  said :  — 

MY  DEAR  RUFUS  :  —  I  have  not  heard  a  word  from 
you,  and  do  not  know  which  of  you  has  taken  the  best 
care  of  the  other.  But  I  have  a  surprise  for  you,  which 
I  think  will  gladden  your  blase  heart.  I  have  received 
an  invitation  from  our  old  friend  Mr.  Berwick  Fancher 
to  come  down  to  the  annual  tournament  of  the  Game 

159 


TANGLED  UP  IN  BEULAH  LAND 

Club,  and  I  have  invited  Madame  Coldcream  to  join  me. 
By  the  way,  I  have  told  her  of  your  admiration,  and  I 
think  you  will  find  the  way  made  quite  smooth  for  you 
when  she  arrives,  for  she  has  promised  to  accompany  me, 
and  I  have  written  to  the  Doctor  by  this  mail  informing 
him  of  our  visit,  with  a  request  to  wire  us  if  his  accom- 
modations are  not  ample.  I  trust,  my  dear  Rufus,  that 
you  will  make  the  most  of  this  visit,  for  the  more  I 
think  of  it  the  more  I  am  satisfied  that  both  you  and 
your  son  need  a  practical  woman  at  the  head  of  affairs, 
and  I  have  done  all  that  can  be  done  to  pave  the  way. 
Affectionately  yours, 

PETUNIA  DEWEY. 


1 60 


CHAPTER   IX 

FIVE  O'CLOCK  IN  THE  MORNING 

HIS  letter  completely  threw  me 
off  my  mental  balance.  Fate 
sometimes  is  a  Nemesis  trying 
to  play  the  Merry  Andrew.  It 
isn't  pleasant.  It  annoys  one  to 
have  serious  matters  masquerade. 
Destiny,  I  said  to  myself,  has  a  serious  role  to 
play,  and  this  is  too  ridiculous.  Madame  Cold- 
cream  coming  here,  is  she  ?  Then,  by  the  in- 
exorable demands  of  business,  I  can  pack  my 
gripsack  and  hie  me  to  New  York  to-morrow  on 
a  matter  of  vital  importance.  What  is  it  Mae- 
terlinck says  about  destiny  being  a  blear-eyed 
bowman,  aiming  straight  ahead,  but  if  the  target 
be  raised  somewhat  higher  than  usual,  the  arrows 
pass  underneath  ?  Good ;  I'll  raise  the  target, 
and  go  back  to  New  York. 

161 


TANGLED  UP  IN  BEULAH  LAND 

Having  adjusted  destiny  to  my  own  schedule, 
I  went  to  bed,  and  so  well  satisfied  was  I  that  I 
could  at  least  dodge  the  blear-eyed  jade,  that  I 
went  to  sleep. 

I  woke  up  the  next  morning,  and,  looking  at 
myself  in  the  glass,  saw  with  satisfaction  that  I 
had  a  well-defined  expression  of  decision  round 
my  mouth.  I  prided  myself  that  it  was  the 
mature  expression  that  belongs  to  such  an  act  as 
is  called  "  taking  the  bull  by  the  horns." 

But  those  summer  mornings  at  Tuskaloo,  when 
all  the  ephemeral  annoyances  of  life  fled  from  the 
memory  and  nothing  remained  but  the  glory  of 
the  hour !  Those  glittering  moments  sang  to- 
gether a  new  symphony  of  life,  and  it  was  impos- 
sible not  to  feel,  despite  all  the  conditions  of 
one's  mind,  that  these  were  transitional  and  tran- 
scendent moments  when  dumb  material  uttered 
its  elemental  rhythmus  with  effluent  unison,  and 
the  vivid  sunlight,  the  cool  shadows,  the  dewy, 
rose-scented  air,  and  the  disturbance  of  the  birds 
were  all  parts  of  the  same  uplifting  oratorio.  I 
walked  about  as  I  attired  myself  and  tried  to  sup- 
press an  inclination  to  whistle,  because  in  a  reso- 
lute frame  of  mind  whistling  is  not  consistent. 
But  when  all  the  elements  about  one  are  kicking 
up  a  roulade,  it  is  difficult  to  suppress  one's  auto- 
matic sympathies.  I  looked  into  my  companion's 
room.  He  was  gone.  Wayward  youth,  I  said, 
he  has  no  sense  of  the  seriousness  of  life;  and 
just  then  the  pulse  of  air  that  came  in  my  vine- 
covered  window  brought  with  it  a  stave  of  human 

162 


FIVE   O'CLOCK   IN   THE   MORNING 

song,  itself  rose-scented  and  softly  exultant,  —  a 
mere  snatch  of  song  that  seemed  to  have  tumbled 
into  expression  out  of  the  condition  of  things  and 
was  going  its  bright  way  with  the  hurrying  hours. 
But  how  well  I  knew  it  —  a  strain  of  "  Lucia  di 
quest  Anima,"  — just  that  bobolink  burst,  and  I 
knew  that  Polly  was  somewhere  mixed  up  in  the 
dewy  shadows,  exulting  like  all  other  things  with- 
out considering.  All  the  old  associations  of  that 
bubbling  romanza  were  touched  in  me,  and  I 
listened  with  my  head  cocked  on  one  side  and,  I 
dare  say,  with  a  smile  of  recognition  on  my  face 
that  must  have  diluted  my  decision.  Polly  was 
somewhere  at  a  softening  distance  contributing  to 
the  morning  fund.  I  felt  sure  she  was  in  the  wet 
grass,  with  her  buckled  shoes,  colloguing  with  the 
robins,  and  that  if  I  listened  long  enough  I 
should  hear  a  stave  of  the  song  in  "  Dinorah," 
and  know  that  she  was  mocking  the  birds  with 
"  Si  Carina,"  and  presently  would  catch  up  her 
skirts  and  go  pirouetting  round  in  the  "  Shadow 
Song,"  just  to  show  those  pretentious  robins  how 
much  better  she  could  do  it.  I  suppose  every 
exultant  girl  has  a  casket  of  a  voice  into  which 
the  old  masters  have  at  some  time  dropped  their 
little  jewels,  and  these  mornings  open  the  lid 
and  let  them  shine. 

All  the  domestic  elements  in  my  comedy  were 
assembled  at  the  breakfast  table,  all  wearing  the 
morning  on  their  unlike  visages,  and  I  alone  try- 
ing to  look  judiciously  malapropos  with  my 
sense  of  impending  danger.  They  were  all  keyed 

163 


TANGLED  UP  IN  BEULAH  LAND 

up  to  the  auroral  gayety  of  heart,  and  the  Doctor 
began  his  fanfare  as  soon  as  we  were  seated. 

"  Good  news  for  all  of  you  !  "  he  said.  "  Have 
to  brush  up  the  old  ranch,  and  get  out  our  laced 
and  embroidered  hospitality.  High-stepping 
company  coming." 

We  all  looked  at  him  with  a  keen  interest,  I 
alone  suspecting  what  was  impending. 

"  We  are  to  have  a  tournament  in  the  moun- 
tains at  the  Club  House,"  he  said ;  "  that  you 
know.  But  what  you  do  not  know  is  that  some 
old  friends  of  mine  are  coming  to  it  from  New 
York.  I  have  a  letter  from  your  sister,"  he  said, 
looking  at  me,  "  Madame  Petunia  Dewey,  an- 
nouncing her  intended  visit  here  to  renew  her  old 
acquaintance  with  me  and  to' look  after  her  brother; 
and  she  brings  with  her  a  friend,  Madame  Cold- 
cream." 

This  announcement,  so  confidently  and  jovi- 
ally made,  did  not  fall  upon  all  of  us  with  the 
same  enlivenment.  Charlie,  who  sat  opposite  me, 
let  his  two  hands  come  down  upon  the  table,  hold- 
ing his  knife  and  fork  in  them,  and  stared  at  me 
with  his  eyes  propped  very  wide  open  by  inquiry, 
and  his  mouth  partly  open  as  if  to  accommodate 
a  little  gasp.  lo,  who  sat  next  him,  was  alone 
unperturbed,  and  went  placidly  on  taking  her 
coffee  by  the  spoonful.  lo,  as  usual,  was  superior 
to  any  vagrant  emotions. 

There  was  a  moment  of  silence,  and  then  the 
voices  all  broke  out  together. 

"  I  suppose  you  were  also  notified  of  the  visit," 
164 


FIVE   O'CLOCK   IN   THE    MORNING 

said  Charlie,  still  boring  at  me  with  his  wide-open 
eyes. 

Polly,  by  my  side,  was  leaning  forward  trying 
to  look  into  my  face,  —  I  felt  that  she  was  anxious 
to  see  how  Charlie's  look  affected  me,  —  and 
Mother's  household  anxiety  surmounted  every- 
thing. 

"Why,  Doctor,"  she  said,  "you  know  we've  only 
one  upstairs  maid,  and  all  the  woollens  in  the  extra 
chambers  are  put  away  for  the  summer ;  the  mus- 
lin curtains  are  not  up,  and  the  mosquito  frames 
are  all  in  the  barn." 

"  They  will  have  to  take  pot-luck,"  said  the 
Doctor.  "  Madame  Dewey  I  know  very  well,  and 
she  will  accommodate  herself  to  circumstances.  As 
for  the  other  lady,  I  presume  my  friend  Rufus 
can  vouch  for  her  adaptability  to  our  barbarism." 

"  A  most  estimable  lady  of  the  old  school, 
Doctor,"  I  said,  "  and  sure  to  add  distinction  to 
your  group." 

"  And  that  is  just  what  our  group  needs.  When 
it  comes  to  tournaments,  we  shall  need  a  chaperon." 

"  But  we  do  not  need  two,  do  we  ? "  asked 
Polly.  "  Who's  the  other  one  for  ?  " 

"  Bob,"  said  the  Doctor,  "  always  speaks  as  if 
there  were  only  one  young  lady  in  the  house." 

"Naturally,"  replied  Polly,  "when  I  don't 
count.  But  isn't  it  rather  late  for  a  chaperon  ?  " 

"  A  good  chaperon  ought  to  be  a  great  relief 
to  all  of  you,"  said  lo,  holding  a  piece  of  omelet 
in  the  air  with  her  fork. 

"It  strikes  me,"  said  Mother,  "that  you  are 

165 


TANGLED  UP  IN  BEULAH  LAND 

speaking  somewhat  disrespectfully  of  our  coming 
guests.  As  they  are  friends  of  Mr.  Fancher's,  I 
think  we  ought  to  try  and  match  them  in  polite- 
ness and  courtesy." 

"  Perhaps,"  said  Polly,  "  they  are  coming  to 
chaperon  Mr.  Fancher." 

"  That  will  do,  Bob,"  said  the  Doctor.  "  Please 
keep  your  twitters  until  after  meals.  You  do  not 
need  a  chaperon  —  only  a  policeman.  You  must 
understand  that  the  ladies  are  not  only  Mr. 
Fancher's  friends,  but  the  friends  of  Charlie  and 
his  father." 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  I  only  know  one  of  the 
ladies  — she  is  my  aunt,"  said  Charlie. 

"  Oh,  you'll  learn  to  appreciate  the  other  lady's 
good  qualities,  from  all  I  hear,"  observed  the 
Doctor,  looking  at  me  with  a  particularly  sly 
expression. 

But  Charlie  tried  to  rise  to  the  occasion  and 
remarked,  "  I  have  heard  of  the  lady,  and  I  am 
quite  anxious  to  see  her  and  satisfy  myself  if  she 
be  a  fact  or  a  fantasy." 

I  was  getting  impaled  on  both  sides  now,  and  I 
didn't  like  it. 

"  Fantasy,  my  boy  ?  "  exclaimed  the  Doctor, 
"  whose  fantasy  ?  Yours  ?  " 

"  No,  indeed,"  replied  Charlie,  "  not  mine." 

"  Can  I  twitter,  please  ?  "  asked  Polly,  demurely. 

"  No,  not  a  twit,  my  dear.  It  strikes  me  that 
you  are  putting  a  rather  flippant  aspect  on  a  very 
important  event.  I  expect  this  establishment  to 
assume  its  highest  tone  and  wear  its  best  bib  and 

166 


FIVE   O'CLOCK    IN    THE    MORNING 

tucker  on  the  arrival  of  our  honoured  guests.  The 
visit  may  result  in  some  very  interesting,  not  to 
say  serious,  considerations.  At  all  events,  we 
must  do  our  best  to  preserve  the  record  of  this 
house  in  high-toned  gayety  and  hospitality." 

They  all  promptly  avowed  their  willingness  to 
do  all  in  their  power,  but  I  could  feel  Charlie 
stare  at  me  as  if  he  were  inquiring  of  himself  if, 
after  all,  his  Dad  was  a  consummate  old  deceiver. 
Nevertheless,  the  Doctor's  voluble  good  spirits 
overrode  everything. 

"  We'll  make  it  antiquely  and  rustically  warm 
for  them,"  he  said,  "  and  if  we  all  work  together, 
matters  will  go  as  merry  as  a  —  well"  (looking  at 
lo  and  then  at  me),  "  as  merry  as  a  marriage  bell." 

When  the  breakfast  was  over  I  went  immedi- 
ately to  my  chamber,  where  I  felt  sure  Charlie 
would  seek  me  for  an  explanation.  How  I  was 
to  act  in  the  matter  I  scarcely  knew  at  the  mo- 
ment. It  occurred  to  me  that  the  apparent 
collusion  of  myself  and  Madame  Coldcream  might 
enable  me  still  to  hold  the  whip-hand  over  Charlie. 
Should  I  tell  him  the  truth  —  that  I  had  nothing 
whatever  to  do  with  the  visit,  or  should  I  let  him 
think  that  I  had?  In  the  one  case  I  might  sacri- 
fice my  advantage,  in  the  other  I  might  sacrifice 
his  respect  for  me.  Before  I  had  made  up  my 
mind  he  was  upon  me.  He  came  in  with  a  rather 
brusque  manner,  I  thought,  shutting  the  door 
after  him. 

"  Say,  Dad,  you  ought  to  treat  me  squarely. 
There's  not  one  chance  in  a  hundred  that 


TANGLED  UP  IN  BEULAH  LAND 

Madame  Coldcream  would  come  here  unless 
you  wanted  her." 

"  My  son,"  I  said,  "  I  had  no  hand  in  bring- 
ing her  here,  but  now  that  she  is  coming  it  may 
be  of  some  practical  advantage  to  me." 

"  Practical  advantage  ?  "  he  exclaimed.  "  You 
said  last  night  she  was  a  fantasy  and  I  was  to  dis- 
miss her.  Did  you  know  she  was  coming  when 
you  said  that  ?  " 

This  direct  appeal  to  my  sincerity  was  very 
hard  to  dodge,  and  I  was  afraid  that  the  intrigue 
would  sooner  or  later  disturb  his  faith  in  me. 

"  Certainly  not,"  I  replied.  "  But  now  that 
she  is  coming,  of  course  the  fantasy  idea  will  have 
to  be  given  up.  She  is  determined  to  convert 
herself  into  a  living  fact,  it  seems.  But  that  is  a 
matter  that  need  not  give  you  any  uneasiness." 

"  But  it  does.  I  do  not  like  to  have  Madame 
Coldcream  suspended  above  me  like  the  sword 
of  Damocles,  liable  to  fall  at  any  moment." 

"  Explain  yourself." 

"  I  mean  that  it  is  better  to  have  done  with  it 
—  to  have  her  fall,  than  to  have  her  always  im- 
pending. If  you  and  I  must  go  different  ways, 
why,  I  suppose  the  best  thing  to  do  is  to  brace 
ourselves  and  accept  the  decree." 

"  Oh,  you  feel  that  way,  do  you  ?  "  and  I  could 
feel  myself  collapsing  at  this  first  assertion  of 
independence.  "Look  here,  Charlie,  it  sounds 
as  if  you  had  made  your  programme  much  more 
definitely  than  I  have.  I  can  invent  an  excuse  to 
get  out  of  this  —  urgent  business  in  New  York. 

168 


FIVE   O'CLOCK    IN   THE   MORNING 

We  can  go  back  to  our  rooms  and  dodge  Madame 
Coldcream  if  she  annoys  you." 

He  was  standing  near  the  table,  and,  striking 
his  fist  upon  it  in  exact  imitation  of  his  Dad,  he 
said  :  — 

"  No,  sir.  I  stay  here  and  fight  it  out.  I've 
never  had  but  one  model,  and  I  have  tried  to 
imitate  it  pretty  closely,  —  even  in  its  lightning 
changes.  Let  the  Damoclean  Coldcream  fall." 

This  was  fairly  hoisting  me  with  my  own 
petard,  whether  Charlie  was  aware  of  it  or  not.  I 
did  not  want  Madame  Coldcream  to  fall  —  at 
least  upon  myself,  and  after  considering  a  mo- 
ment, I  told  him  so. 

"  Then,"  said  he,  "  I  cannot  understand  why 
you  should  want  to  run  away,  just  as  matters  are 
approaching  a  crisis  here." 

"  Oh,  they  are  getting  interesting,  are  they  ?  I 
suspected  as  much." 

"  Suspected  ?  You  desired  it,  didn't  you  ?  See 
here,  Dad,  I  think  I  have  been  a  pretty  docile 
son.  I've  tried  my  best  to  adapt  myself  to 
your  changing  moods,  but  I'm  blessed  if  I  can 
do  it  any  more  unless  you  give  me  a  route  of 
them.  Your  mind  is  getting  so  eccentric  that  it 
changes  over  night.  Yesterday,  Madame  Cold- 
cream  was  a  fantasy.  To-day  she  is  a  fact.  What 
she  will  be  to-morrow,  I  shudder  to  think.  A 
week  ago,  you  were  scared  to  death  because  you 
thought  I  had  fallen  in  love  with  a  church-mouse, 
and  in  a  spirit  of  the  most  self-sacrificing,  filial 
obedience,  I  tore  the  church-mouse  out  of  my 

169 


TANGLED  UP  IN  BEULAH  LAND 

heart  and  proceeded  to  fall  in  love  with  a  wax 
Venus.  Instead  of  calming  your  mind  and  bring- 
ing it  round  to  its  normal  gait,  I'm  blessed  if  you 
haven't  gone  off  at  another  turn  and  act  as  though 
you  were  indignant  because  I  didn't  defy  you  in 
the  first  place." 

"  Easy,  easy,  my  boy.  I  didn't  know  how  far 
matters  had  gone." 

"  Didn't  you  ?  Then  what  made  you  so  anx- 
ious to  get  me  away  from  New  York  ? " 

"  Why,  you  young  ingrate,  it  was  you  who 
were  anxious  to  get  me  away.  You  were  scared 
to  death  by  Madame  Coldcream,  and  now  you 
want  her  to  fall  upon  me  like  the  wolf  upon  the 
fold.  Talk  about  an  eccentric  mind,  —  look  at 
yourself  and  blush.  Why,  it  was  only  last  night 
you  wanted  to  go  back  to  our  rooms.'* 

"  Pure  regard  for  you,  sir.  I  am  learning  to 
put  my  own  desires  in  these  matters  entirely  at 
your  disposal  and  prepare  for  anything.  I  have 
told  lo  that  I  love  her.  I  didn't  expect  a  medal 
for  it,  but  I  certainly  did  expect  some  considera- 
tion for  my  obedience." 

"  But  confound  it,  sir,  you  told  the  other 
girl  that  you  loved  her  too.  Must  I  inform  you 
that  no  man  of  our  stock  would  lead  an  innocent 
girl  to  believe  that  he  loved  her,  and  then  coolly 
desert  her  for  the  first  good-looking  woman  he 
met  ?  What  would  you  think  of  me  if  I  did  such 
a  thing  ? " 

"  You  labour  under  some  disadvantages,  Dad  — 
you  haven't  a  father." 

170 


FIVE   O'CLOCK   IN   THE    MORNING 

"  But  this  is  a  serious  matter,  my  boy,  to  trifle 
with  a  girl's  heart,  and  the  worst  of  crimes  to 
break  it.  That  poor  girl  may  be  crying  her  eyes 
out  now  on  your  account.  By  Jove,  sir,  I  saw  tears 
in  her  eyes,  and  it  went  to  my  heart.  I  don't 
know  how  you  feel,  but  there  is  something 
shameful  in  the  mere  possibility  of  a  double 
game  of  this  kind." 

We  were  looking  at  each  other  rather  seriously, 
and  at  that  moment  there  came  through  the  roses 
at  the  window  a  snatch  of  that  same  scented 


song 

0   ( 

* 

_•_ 

F35? 

rk-ft  —  =p 

-f— 

—f— 

^~ 

PN-— 

l-w^- 

-tx— 

—  V  — 

—  1  

—V  2  — 

C^i       *    ^—  — 

It  stopped  short,  and  Charlie  said:  — 

"  There  are  no  tears  in  that,  Dad.  Why  in 
thunder  doesn't  she  finish  it  ?  " 

"  Ah,"  I  said  pensively,  "  it  is  like  a  broken 
column." 

"  Do  you  think  so  ?  It  seems  to  me  like  a 
cash  payment  on  the  instalment  plan.  You  said 
you  wanted  to  see  us  together.  Why  not  give 
her  a  yodel  out  of  the  window  ?  Troll  the  rest 
of  that  song.  You  know  it.  I've  heard  you 
whistle  it." 

He  looked   at    his  watch.     "  Ta-ta,"  he  said, 

171 


TANGLED  UP  IN  BEULAH  LAND 

"  I  promised  I o  to  go  with  her  for  a  gallop  before 
the  sun  got  up." 

"  Go  your  way,"  I  said.  "  I  will  have  a  talk 
with  Polly  alone." 

"  That's  good  of  you  —  you  comfort  her  and 
cheer  her  up  like  you  do  me.  I'll  be  back  in  an 
hour,  and  maybe  by  that  time  you  will  have  a 
new  idea." 

I  went  down  and  sat  on  the  big  veranda,  where 
I  lit  a  cigar  and  tried  to  give  myself  up  to  the 
morning  swoon.  But  there  is  no  nepenthe  in 
such  a  morning.  The  days  at  Tuskaloo  were 
all  arranged  on  an  electric  plan,  each  with  its 
poles,  very  positive  at  one  end  and  negative  at  the 
other,  full  of  stimulant  matin  influences  at  the 
beginning  and  tapering  off  at  the  end  with  slum- 
berous sedatives  in  the  gloaming. 

Presently  the  Doctor  joined  me.  His  heavy 
tread  on  the  porch  made  the  boards  creak  as  if 
even  the  old  lumber  of  the  place  had  sharp  tiny 
voices  that  could  be  called  into  service.  He  had 
on  his  nankeen  jacket,  a  soft,  yellow,  unstarched 
roundabout  with  big  side  pockets,  out  of  one 
of  which  hung  a  silk  bandanna  like  a  toreador's, 
and  his  immaculate  duck  trousers  gleamed  round 
his  massive  legs  with  ample  coolness.  He  took 
off  the  broad  Panama  hat,  fanned  his  ruddy  face 
with  it  once  or  twice,  and,  taking  in  all  the  inspi- 
ration of  the  moment,  said,  with  a  lusty,  compre- 
hensive breath :  — 

"  Well,  my  old  friend,  it  is  for  this  we  toil  and 
spin." 

172 


FIVE   O'CLOCK   IN   THE   MORNING 

"  True,"  I  replied.  "  There  are  some  moments 
here  that  are  too  bright  to  belong  to  time.  They 
seem  to  have  filtered  down  from  eternity." 

"  My  dear  fellow,"  he  said,  pulling  up  another 
big  Quaker  rocker,  and  disposing  himself  in  it  like 
a  rajah  who  has  included  Nirvana  in  his  assets, 
"  my  dear  fellow,  we  apportion  our  feelings  off  to 
the  hours.  If  we  could  keep  our  morning  fresh- 
ness till  evening,  everything  would  glitter  and 
sing  in  the  dusks  as  it  does  in  the  dawns.  It  is 
not  that  there  is  any  more  joy  afloat  in  the  morn- 
ing, it  is  because  we  are  better  attuned.  It's  a 
fact,  —  after  seven  or  eight  hours  of  enforced 
faith  in  the  Unseen  —  absolute  self-abnegation 
in  sleep  —  we  get  up  brimful  of  the  Eternal  and 
think  it  has  just  arrived.  We  wear  our  faith  out 
before  nightfall,  and  then,  because  the  fumes  of 
earth  make  the  sun  go  down  murky,  we  become 
pessimists.  I  like  to  catch  a  man  in  the  morn- 
ing, when  he  is  at  concert  pitch,  before  he  is  self- 
jangled.  Then  everything  is  at  early  mass.  If 
I  wanted  to  convert  men  I'd  begin  at  daybreak, 
tvhen  the  souls  are  already  half  converted  and 
don't  know  it.  Religion  is  a  matin  hymn,  and 
[  suppose  love  is  too,  —  our  young  lovers  have 
rone  away  into  the  dew  and  sunshine.  I  saw 
:hem  ride  off." 

He  said  this  jocularly  enough,  but  it  sounded 
ather  melancholy  to  me.  I  don't  know  why. 

"  lo  has  acknowledged  to  me  that  your  son  is 
<tn  attractive  young  man.  Attractive,  my  friend. 
Weigh  that  word  from  a  girl's  mouth.  lo  is  not 

173 


TANGLED  UP  IN  BEULAH  LAND 

volatile  and  effusive  like  Polly,  but  there  is  every 
reason  to  believe  that  the  wind  sets  from  the 
right  quarter  and  I  do  not  mind  saying  frankly 
to  you  that  it  is  a  great  relief  to  me." 

Now,  what  would  you  have  done  in  such  a 
case  ?  I  mean  you  who  are  reading  this  page.  I 
think  I  see  you  drawing  yourself  up  with  that 
severe  ethical  judgment  that  is  given  to  us  only 
when  we  read,  seldom  indeed  when  we  act,  and 
saying,  If  I  had  emitted  so  many  fine  senti- 
ments and  put  such  a  high  estimate  on  sincerity 
and  frankness  as  you  have  done,  I  would  try  and 
act  up  to  my  theories,  tell  the  Doctor  the  plain 
truth,  and  be  hanged  to  the  tangle. 

You  would,  would  you  ?  You  would  tell  the 
Doctor  that  Polly  had  deceived  him  ;  that  Charlie 
had  lent  himself  to  the  deception ;  that  we  had 
been  pretending  to  run  away  from  a  temptation 
and  had  followed  it  up,  making  the  Doctor  parti- 
ceps  criminis.  You  would  say  to  him,  I  have 
pretended  to  lend  myself  to  your  scheme,  but  I 
was  not  honest,  and  now  that  Charlie  is  making 
love  to  lo,  I  think  he  ought  to  marry  Polly. 
And  you  would  still  eat  the  Doctor's  salt. 

Consider.  I  was  not  sure  that  Charlie  ought 
to  marry  Polly,  nor  was  I  entirely  certain  that  she 
would  break  her  heart  if  he  didn't.  Let  me  re- 
mind you  again  that  if  the  men  who  write  books 
were  as  strong  and  direct  as  the  men  who  read 
them,  there  would  be  an  end  of  all  romance.  If  I 
had  shown  the  slightest  inclination  to  be  as  frank 
as  the  circumstances  seemed  to  demand,  the  Doc- 

174 


FIVE   O'CLOCK   IN   THE    MORNING 

tor  would  have  gone  off,  hunted  up  that  letter  I 
wrote  him  from  New  York  and  flourished  it  in  my 
face.  Would  it  not  have  been  extremely  selfish  on 
my  part  to  disturb,  simply  on  account  of  a  pair  of 
blue  eyes,  the  relationship  which  was  growing  up 
between  lo  and  Charlie?  Then,,  too,  the  Doctor 
had  made  it  very  plain  that  his  interest  in  the 
future  of  the  estate  would  be  assured  by  the 
arrangements  he  was  making.  He  did  not  say 
clearly  how,  but  I  suspected  that  he  needed  fresh 
capital  to  continue  his  generous  patriarchal  life. 

"  Doctor,"  I  said,  feeling  my  way  along 
guardedly,  "  Doctor,  what  are  you  going  to  do 
with  Polly  ? " 

"  Ah,"  he  said,  "  there  you  touch  me.  She 
belongs  to  the  atmosphere  of  the  place,  one  of 
those  appurtenances  with  which  you  must  not  do 
anything.  I  cannot  bear  to  think  of  the  ultimate 
evaporation  of  Bob.  Her  twitter  is  as  much  a  part 
of  the  sunshine  and  song  of  the  long  evening  of 
my  life,  as  is  Nature  herself,  and  gives  it  the  zest 
of  morning.  But  I  suppose  that  bubble  must 
burst.  Some  confounded  yokel,  like  a  hawk,  will 
come  along  and  pick  her  up  and  fly  away  with 
her,  and  then,  why  then,  things  will  grow  silent 
and  gray.  I  have  allowed  myself  to  drift  into  a 
comfortable  delusion  that,  come  what  may,  Bob 
will  be  always  somewhere  about,  swinging  on  a 
spray  and  twittering.  It's  rather  foolish,  I  admit, 
but  it  is  the  penalty  of  having  no  Bobs  of  your 
own." 

"  Yes,"  I  said,  "  I  can  understand    that.       It 

'75 


TANGLED  UP  IN  BEULAH  LAND 

makes  us  old  fellows  wish  that  we  were  thirty 
years  younger." 

"  Then  we  should  not  appreciate  it.  A  young 
man  doesn't  care  for  atmosphere,  he  wants 
avoirdupois." 

"  Doctor,  Polly  weighs  at  least  a  hundred  and 
forty.  She  is  heavier  than  you  think.  I  wouldn't 
estimate  her  by  her  twitters,  and  she  is  not  a  bad- 
looking  girl,  either." 

"  Yes,  yes ;  it  takes  sixty  or  seventy  years  to 
estimate  Bob's  weight.  I  see  you  have  arrived 
at  years  of  discretion,  and  then,  our  faculties  are 
keen  in  the  morning.  You  always  were  suscepti- 
ble just  after  breakfast.  I  remember  how  you 
tried  to  build  an  ivory  throne  in  the  Hotchkiss 
woods  for  a  milkmaid.  Well,  well,  I  shall  not 
blame  you,  —  in  the  morning,  when  the  universe  is 
flirting  with  itself.  I  felt  like  singing  when  I  saw 
your  boy  galloping  off  an  hour  ago.  Yes,  I  did. 
I  haven't  got  much  voice  left,  but  my  memory  is 
good  and  an  old  ballad  slipped  through  my  mind, 
as  if  it  had  Polly's  buckled  shoes  on:  — 

"  And  as  he  lingered  at  her  side, 

Despite  his  comrade's  warning, 

The  old,  old  story  was  told  again 

At  five  o'clock  in  the  morning. 

Do  you  remember  how  Parepa  Rosa  sang  that 
homespun  ballad  years  ago,  with  her  sunrise  voice 
making  daybreak  for  dusky  souls  ?  " 

The  Doctor  was  reminiscent  and  human  —  in 
the  morning. 

!76 


FIVE   O'CLOCK   IN   THE    MORNING 

"  It  is  always  the  old,  old  story,"  he  said. 
"  The  best  we  can  do  is  to  sit  on  the  shore  and 
watch  the  bid  springtides  flushing." 

Somehow  it  did  not  appeal  to  me  in  exactly  the 
same  way.  I  saw  a  pair  of  violet  eyes  looking  up 
into  mine,  suffused  and  appealing.  They  re- 
mained to  me  the  most  eloquent  eyes  I  had  ever 
looked  in.  It  was  plain  that  the  Doctor  had 
never  detected  their  pathos. 

But  all  this  was  suddenly  interrupted  by  the 
sound  of  a  horn  on  the  road. 

"  Aha,"  exclaimed  the  Doctor,  jumping  up. 
"  Our  guests,  —  and  Boylston  is  making  an  ass  of 
himself  with  a  horn." 

We  could  hear  the  horses  coming,  and  presently 
the  laughter  of  voices.  I  had  just  time  to  breathe 
a  transitory  hope  to  myself  that  Madame  Cold- 
cream  had  been  left  behind,  when  the  equipage 
turned  in  at  the  gate  dramatically,  with  Mr. 
Fancher  galloping  by  its  side ;  and  there  was 
Madame  Coldcream  sure  enough  on  the  front  seat, 
just  as  large  and  resolute  as  life  itself,  and  as  they 
came  jingling  up  to  the  veranda  in  the  highest 
of  spirits,  there  came  faintly  from  the  distance  the 
vanishing  strain  so  like  a  receding  bobolink's :  — 


177 


CHAPTER  X 

IN    WHICH    I    BECOME    A    NONENTITY 

HE  old  Manse  wore  a  livelier  air  of 
contemporaneous  life  when  these 
visitors  came  to  it.  My  excellent 
half-sister  Petunia  Dewey  fluttered 
the  Mater  of  the  house,  you  may 
be  sure.  It  was  such  an  event  to 
have  personages  of  affairs  come  this  way  from  a 
seething  centre  and  sit  down  at  the  archaic  board 
and  make  the  recluses  feel  how  provincial  they 
were !  But  the  Doctor  gave  no  heed  to  such 
consideration.  His  exuberant  hospitality  stopped 
not  at  trifles,  but  went  on  its  overflowing  way 
without  recognizing  any  new  responsibilities.  I 
think  that  he  exulted  a  little,  as  a  provincial  patri- 
arch might,  in  being  able  to  show  off  his  rusty 
courtliness  to  such  good  advantage. 

The  moment  that  all  the  preliminary  greetings 
and   welcomings  were  over  and  the  guests  were 


I    BECOME   A   NONENTITY 

adjusted  to  the  menage,  Petunia  pulled  me  away 
to  herself  and  came  at  me  with  interrogations  as 
the  crow  flies. 

"  What  is  the  situation  here  ? "  she  asked. 
"  Have  you  and  your  precious  scion  taken  such 
good  care  of  each  other  that  the  inevitable  is  a 
back  number  ? " 

"  Petunia,"  I  said,  "  you  are  disingenuous. 
You  probably  know  that  I  ran  away  from  a  temp- 
tation only  to  rush  into  its  arms.  Between  you 
all  I  have  been  made  the  dupe  of  my  own  solici- 
tude." 

"  That  is  interesting,"  she  exclaimed.  "  Tell 
me  all  about  it." 

"  I  would  if  it  could  possibly  have  any  novelty 
for  you." 

But  Petunia  vowed  that  she  had  not  the  slight- 
est idea  what  I  was  talking  about,  and  sometimes 
her  vows  wore  the  aspect  of  sincerity.  So  I  told 
her,  making  my  explanations  as  brief  as  possible. 
She  was  frankly  amazed,  and  disavowed  all  com- 
plicity. 

"  It  is  not  a  plot,"  she  said.     "  It  is  fate." 

"  Then  permit  me  to  say  that  fate  is  a  bungling 
playwright.  No  sooner  does  it  arrange  its  denoue- 
ment than  the  actors  strike.  My  wayward  scion 
appears  to  have  fallen  in  love  with  the  leading 
lady  here." 

"  Then  it  is  not  fate  that  has  miscarried,  but  the 
stage  manager." 

"  Who  is  the  stage  manager  ?  " 

"You.  You  have  changed  your  point  of  view." 
179 


TANGLED  UP  IN  BEULAH  LAND 

"  My  son  has  changed  his  point  of  view." 

"  And  for  some  reason  that  I  do  not  under- 
stand, you  appear  to  regret  it." 

"  Yes,  I  cannot  help  feeling  annoyed  at  an 
exhibition  of  such  wayward  susceptibility.  I 
rather  counted  on  the  fellow's  stubborn  loyalty  to 
his  first  love." 

"  Then  he  has  fallen  in  love  again.  He  is 
vivacious,  isn't  he  ?  " 

"He  has  had  his  youthful  sensibilities  touched 
by  a  new  face." 

"  Then,  in  Heaven's  name,  Rufus,  let  Nature 
take  its  course  this  time,  if  there  are  no  other 
new  faces  here.  I  warn  you  that  I  shall  throw  all 
my  influence  on  the  side  of  Nature,  unless  you 
tell  me  that  the  latest  is  out  of  our  class." 

Petunia's  estimate  of  these  things  was  entirely 
social.  Like  a  great  many  other  estimable  women, 
she  had  relegated  her  conscience  to  her  set.  It 
was  useless  for  me  to  tell  her  that  I  was  governed 
in  the  matter  by  the  fitness  that  insured  the  future. 

"You  observed  Miss  lo,"  I  said,  "and  prob- 
ably measured  her  charms  if  not  her  capacity. 
Isn't  she  a  beautiful  girl?" 

"  She  is  good-looking  enough,"  replied  Petunia, 
with  a  woman's  conservatism  when  speaking  of 
other  women,  "  good-looking  enough  as  girls  go. 
The  question  is,  Is  she  able  to  take  her  place  in 
the  circle  that  your  son  will  move  in  ?  " 

"  As  to  that,"  I  said,  "  I  suppose  that  with  such 
a  face  and  figure,  the  circle,  whatever  it  may  be, 
will  square  itself  to  her  authority." 

1 80 


I    BECOME   A   NONENTITY 

"  Humph,"  she  observed.  "  It  is  very  evident 
that  you  and  the  Doctor  have  arranged  it.  I 
didn't  think  you  were  so  lively." 

"  We  have  recognized  it." 

"  Where  is  the  other  one,  into  whose  arms  I 
understood  you  to  say  you  had  rushed  ?  Is  that 
arranged,  too  ? " 

Now,  the  "  other  one "  had  withdrawn  into 
the  background.  I  presumed  that,  like  myself, 
she  had  made  up  her  mind  that  it  was  folly  to 
oppose  the  inevitable,  and  was  over  at  the  Lodge, 
packing  her  trunk.  At  all  events,  she  was  not  in 
evidence ;  so  I  could  not  expect  Petunia  to  make 
any  immediate  comparisons,  and  I  said :  — 

"  See  here,  Petunia,  I  have  only  one  desire  in 
this  matter,  and  it  is  that  boy's  future.  I  don't 
care  a  rap  for  what  you  call  his  or  his  wife's  social 
position." 

"  Since  when  did  you  execute  this  lightning 
change  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  What  I  want,"  I  continued,  "  is  to  secure  his 
future  domestic  happiness,  and  if  I  felt  sure  that 
his  present  susceptibility  would  insure  it,  I  should 
give  no  further  thought  to  the  matter.  But  that 
is  just  where  I  am  baffled.  Such  beauty  as  lo's 
is  sphinxine,  at  least  to  a  man.  I  have  been  here 
some  time,  and  I  know  no  more  of  lo's  character 
than  when  I  came ;  and  the  worst  of  it  is,  she  ap- 
pears to  know  that  she  can  dazzle  any  man's 
judgment  by  looking  at  him." 

"  What  rubbish  !  "  said  Petunia.  "  The  only 
amiable  weakness  that  you  have  not  outgrown  is 

181 


TANGLED  UP  IN  BEULAH  LAND 

an  inveterate  quality  of  sex.  She  can't  dazzle 
me." 

"  I  know  it.  Therefore  I  expect  you  to  lend 
me  your  unblinking  judgment." 

"  Let. me  see  them  together,  and  I  will  tell  you 
all  about  it.  These  dazzlers  have  one  excellent 
quality  —  they  are  transparent." 

If  Miss  lo  had  known  that  Madame  Dewey's 
eye  was  upon  her  and  going  through  her  during 
that  visit,  I  think  it  would  have  given  her  an 
extra  charm  of  nervousness.  And  yet,  now  that 
I  think  of  it,  how  do  I  know  that  lo's  eye  was 
not  placidly  on  Madame  herself,  making  an 
equal  inventory  and  defying  her  ?  Who  can  fol- 
low these  reciprocal  processes  ?  The  women 
probably  read  each  other  through  and  through, 
and  never  for  one  moment  acknowledged  each 
other's  acumen. 

I  hope  the  reader  perceives  the  dilemma  in 
which  I  was  placed,  and  understands  my  further 
dilemma  in  being  the  narrator  of  what  the  reader 
fondly  believes  is  a  love  story.  When  did  the 
reader  get  a  love  story  from  the  father's  point  of 
view  ?  It  is  a  most  incredible  undertaking  for  a 
man  of  my  age,  for  a  father  has  qualms.  He 
may  carry,  as  I  did,  his  susceptibility  to  beauty 
up  to  the  edge  of  the  sear  and  yellow,  but,  con- 
found it !  he  carries  his  experience  also,  and  they 
are  sure  to  lock  horns.  He  turns  over  the  page 
of  the  new  book  and  the  rhetoric  holds  him  with 
its  fresh  glitter.  But  he  knows  the  trite  plot  at 
a  glance.  Most  of  the  veterans,  they  tell  me, 

182 


I    BECOME   A   NONENTITY 

leave  the  theatre  at  the  end  of  the  second  act 
They  have  seen  the  new  beauty  and  they  know 
the  rest.  Nobody  ever  thinks  of  getting  a  new 
plot,  only  of  seeing  a  new  woman.  That  is  why 
popular  plays  depend  on  the  relays,  not  on  the 
reason. 

The  only  advantage  that  a  father  has  in  trying 
to  tell  a  love  story,  is  that  he  is  a  little  suspicious 
of  superlative  beauty.  It  is  no  longer  a  guarantee. 
He  has  learned,  perhaps,  that  Nature's  purpose 
in  getting  up  what  we  call  her  divinities,  is  wholly 
dissociated  from  anything  but  her  own  idea  of 
fecundity,  and  that  consequently  she  often  adorns 
the  shallowest  souls  with  the  most  regal  lines  and 
colours.  It  takes  a  man  generally  about  forty 
years  to  learn  that  real  beauty  is  like  Truth  — 
like  Truth,  I  cry  you  shame.  It  is  Truth,  and 
it  never  bursts  upon  the  vision,  outside  of  the 
current  novel,  with  the  blazon  of  voluptuous 
facts,  but  glimmers  up  slowly  according  to  the 
law  of  evolution,  and  shines  securely  when  Aph- 
rodite is  grown  obese  and  dull. 

What  the  world  has  consented  to  call  beauty 
in  a  woman  ever  since  the  Argive  Helen,  is  often 
a  vacuum  which  that  same  world  rushes  to  fill 
with  its  fancies.  When  beauty  consents  to  die, 
or,  what  is  worse,  to  live  on  beyond  its  attractive- 
ness, we  can  discover  nothing  but  the  vagaries 
we  imputed  to  it. 

I  suppose,  if  the  truth  must  be  told,  that  I 
was  mean  enough  to  harbour  a  skulking  distrust 
of  Miss  lo.  Her  imperious  superiority  to  all 

183 


TANGLED  UP  IN  BEULAH  LAND 

the  demands  of  a  father,  her  unauthorized  sover- 
eignty of  line  and  colour,  aggravated  me  in  some 
unknown  way.  She  often  looked  at  me  with  a 
mild  and  matchless  contempt  that  only  I  could 
interpret,  for  it  said  to  me,  "  Pish,  for  your  years 
of  watchfulness  and  of  anxious  guardianship  !  I 
override  them  all  with  contour  and  the  divine 
right  of  effulgence." 

I  was  not  sure,  even  while  experiencing  this 
unworthy  feeling,  that  I  was  not  doing  her  great 
injustice.  One  thing  I  am  sure  of.  I  never 
came  under  the  spell  of  her  beauty  without  feel- 
ing the  absence  of  something.  I  dare  say  I  was 
foolish  enough  to  think  of  an  overflowing  girlhood 
somewhere ;  something  scintillant,  in  buckled 
shoes ;  daring  to  throw  its  arms  about  my 
neck ;  now  looking  at  the  shadows  of  its  own 
temperament  through  tears,  and  now  dancing'  a 
gavotte  —  interpreting  itself  like  a  wind  harp,  as 
the  breath  of  heaven  touched  it.  And  then  I 
wondered  at  the  majestic  keyboard  of  this  other 
instrument  which  kept  every  player  at  a  dis- 
tance. 

I  had  already  learned  that  there  are  two  occa- 
sions in  a  father's  life  when  he  is  expected  to  be- 
come a  nonentity.  One  is  a  birth  and  the  other 
is  a  death.  I  had  now  to  learn  that  there  are 
three,  and  a  marriage  must  be  added  to  the 
periods  of  self-extinction,  when  your  friends 
push  you  aside  and  take  upon  themselves  the 
management  of  what  looks  to  you  like  your 
destiny.  Now  that  I  had  a  marriageable  son, 

184 


I    BECOME   A   NONENTITY 

my  individuality  was  kindly  reminded  on  all 
sides  that  it  should  remain  at  zero. 

The  Doctor  caught  me  by  the  arm  and  walked 
me  up  and  down  his  veranda  with  complacent 
patronage. 

"  Now  that  the  house  wears  a  gala-day  aspect," 
said  he,  "  we  might  top  off  with  a  wedding.  What 
do  you  say  ?  Suppose  we  seize  the  opportunity 
and  tie  the  knot." 

I  shrank  a  little  at  this  unexpected  precipitancy. 

"  Better  wait  awhile,"  I  said.  "  There  is  noth- 
ing gained  by  taking  the  matter  out  of  its  natural 
course." 

"  Certainly  not,  certainly  not ;  but,  having  as- 
certained the  natural  course  and  determined  the 
result,  we  might  as  well  arrive  at  it  and  have  done 
with  it.  Just  tell  your  youngster  to  fix  the  day, 
while  the  company  is  here ;  to  strike  while  the 
iron  is  hot ;  you  understand.  One  day  is  as  good 
as  another.  By  the  soul  of  Andrew  Jackson  I 
feel  like  shaking  an  archaic  leg  myself  and  tap- 
ping tuns  of  wine,  and  tripping  it  gayly  on  the 
greensward.  I  haven't  had  a  square  merrymaking 
these  forty  years.  Gads,  my  old  friend,  we'll 
renew  our  youth  and  pack  these  perilous  young 
responsibilities  off  in  the  narrow  path  of  honour 
and  offspring  while  the  roses  are  in  bloom." 

It  is  astonishing,  I  said  to  myself,  with  what 
avidity  philosophy  worms  itself  into  other  persons' 
affairs.  Here  was  my  discreet  old  mentor  thrown 
off  his  balance  entirely  by  a  prospect  of  orange 
blossoms,  and  ready  to  avail  himself  of  the  hal- 

185 


TANGLED  UP  IN  BEULAH  LAND 

lucinations  of  youth,  to  fasten  two  young  persons 
irremediably  together  for  life. 

I  told  him  I  would  consult  with  one  of  the 
principals  and  talk  further  of  it.  But  they  kept 
the  principal  out  of  the  way  between  them. 
Charlie  and  Miss  lo  had  ridden  up  to  the  Club 
to  make  inquiries  about  the  tournament.  I  im- 
agined that  he  slipped  out  in  the  mornings  be- 
fore I  was  up,  and  lingered  round  somewhere  at 
night  till  I  had  gone  to  bed.  Some  kind  of  a 
film  had  come  between  us  already. 

In  such  an  uneasy  condition  of  mind,  made 
restless  by  the  conviction  that  I  no  longer  had 
any  determining  voice  in  that  which  alone  inter- 
ested me,  I  felt  an  impulse  to  rush  after  my  son 
and  throw  my  arm  about  him  with  the  old-time 
confidence  and  say,  "  Come,  come,  Comrade,  our 
interests  are  identical  —  let  us  tear  ourselves  away 
from  all  this  and  recover  our  implicit  candour  born 
of  so  many  hours  of  affection."  The  more  I  pon- 
dered over  these  intricacies  of  my  own  weaving, 
the  more  vividly  I  remembered  the  spontaneity 
and  motiveless  vivacity  of  Polly,  who  had  no  pur- 
poses —  only  instincts. 

I  am  afraid  the  Doctor's  circle  began  to  bore 
me  a  little.  Madame  Coldcream  put  my  com- 
placence to  a  severe  test.  I  was  kept  at  a  con- 
tinual pitch  of  decorous  consideration  by  her 
well-bred  platitudes  and  her  unexceptionable  arti- 
ficiality. She  had  brought  her  groove  with  her, 
and  one  could  not  be  polite  without  walking  in 
it.  The  Doctor  appeared  to  think  it  was  a 

186 


I    BECOME   A   NONENTITY 

luxury  to  bounce  about  her  with  elephantine 
courtesy  and  practise  some  of  his  old  social 
graces.  But  I  had  no  vanity  of  hospitality  to 
sustain,  and  when  he  carried  them  all  off  for  a 
drive  to  show  them  the  country,  I  begged  out  of 
the  group  and  was  left  behind  in  the  big,  echoing 
house  with  the  servants.  Then  it  was  that  I 
seized  a  sombrero  from  the  hat  rack  and,  clutch- 
ing a  heavy  cane,  set  out  for  the  Lodge.  I 
never  before  had  been  so  destitute  of  a  definite 
purpose.  If  you  had  asked  me  what  I  was  going 
to  the  Lodge  for,  I  should  have  looked  at  you 
with  a  vacuous  ignorance  worthy  of  a  wax  figure. 

It  is  well,  perhaps,  that  one  does  not  at  times 
know  what  he  is  about.  He  is  thus  enabled  to 
stumble  on  providentially. 

When  I  arrived  within  a  stone's  throw  of  the 
house,  the  plunk  of  a  banjo  came  through  the 
roses.  The  free,  jocund  stroke  of  its  few  strings 
called  to  me  from  very  far  back,  and  I  kept  step 
to  it  as  I  entered  the  enclosure  and  found  Polly 
in  the  back  yard  sitting  on  an  overturned  wash- 
tub,  one  leg  over  the  other,  strumming  some  kind 
of  barbaric  stave. 

Suddenly  as  I  had  come  upon  her,  it  did  not 
surprise  her.  She  might  have  been  expecting  me 
for  all  the  change  that  my  appearance  made  in 
her  manner. 

"  Listen  to  this,"  she  said.  "  I  have  been 
picking  at  it  two  days  and  I  have  just  got  it  — 
snatched  it  like  a  bunch  of  marshmallows,  down  in 
the  meadows  where  the  boys  play  it  to  the  cattle. 

187 


TANGLED  UP  IN  BEULAH  LAND 

"  Wait  awhile,  my  honey  dear, 

Summer  time's  a-comin'; 
When  the  snow  is  melted,  suah 
You'll  hear  de  bees  a-hummin'." 

One  makes  quick  estimates  sometimes.  I  said 
to  myself  in  one  of  those  lightning  calculations 
that  astonish  us  afterwards,  I  know  now  what 
is  the  matter  with  Miss  lo  and  Madame  Cold- 
cream  and  Petunia  herself — they  have  no  banjo 
in  their  dispositions. 

"  Polly,"  I  said,  looking  round  for  another 
overturned  tub  and  not  finding  it,  "  have  you 
abandoned  us  ?  There  is  something  atrocious 
in  leaving  us  to  our  own  resources  at  such  a 
crisis." 

"  Us  ?  "  repeated  the  minstrel,  with  an  inter- 
rogative plunky-plunk.  "  Are  you  speaking  for 
the  company  ?  " 

"  No,"  I  replied,  tumbling  at  the  first  stroke 
to  her  own  frankness,  "  only  for  myself." 

"  There  is  something  funny  in  a  man  of  your 
resources  coming  to  a  church  mouse.  (Plunkety- 
plunk.)  Listen  to  the  second  verse." 

"  Wait  a  moment,"  I  said.  "  Aren't  you  going 
to  the  tournament  with  the  family  ?  " 

"  Nobody  axed  me,  sir,  she  said."  (Plunkety- 
plunk.) 

"  That  explains  why  I  am  here." 

"  To  ask  me  ?  " 

"  Will  you  go  with  me  ?  " 

"Yes,  with  you."     (Plinkety-plink.) 

She  jumped  up,  ran  to  the  door  of  the  house, 


I    BECOME   A   NONENTITY 

placed  the  banjo  inside,  seized  her  chip  hat,  and, 
coming  back,  slipped  her  arm  through  mine. 

"It  was  real  good  of  you,"  she  said,  as  we 
walked  along.  "I  was  afraid  I  had  offended  you." 

"  Well,  Polly,  I  have  turned  it  all  over  in  my 
mind,  and  do  my  best  I  cannot  find  anything  to 
be  offended  at  —  in  you,  at  least.  I  have  been  a 
little  disappointed,  I  suppose,  but  we  get  over 
those  things." 

"  And  you  are  recovered  ? " 

"  Somewhat.  It  is  a  man's  duty  to  rectify  mis- 
takes when  he  cannot  prevent  them." 

"  You  mean  other  persons'  mistakes." 

"  No,  I  don't.  I  mean  my  own.  Polly,  I 
want  you  to  tell  me  exactly  how  old  you  are." 

"  You  can't  correct  that.  I  was  twenty  on  the 
first  of  April.  All  Fool's  day.  You  might  have 
guessed  it  —  I  mean  the  day." 

"  True,  if  I  had  thought  of  sunshine  and 
showers,  which  you  take  such  good  care  to  re- 
mind me  of.  But,  after  all,  what  have  the  years 
to  do  with  it  ?  Some  girls  are  born  women,  and 
some  men  remain  boys.  You  know  we  were  so 
confidential  at  the  start." 

"  Yes,  at  the  start." 

"  Why  shouldn't  we  be  at  the  finish  ?  " 

She  stopped  short  in  the  grassy  road  and 
looked  at  me  with  one  of  those  quick,  involun- 
tary starts  that  were  her  own  property  and  in 
which  she  always  played  the  echo. 

"Finish?"  she  said,  with  a  soft,  rose-tinted 
alarm.  "  My  —  what  has  happened  ?  " 

189 


"You  have,"  I  replied,  catching  hold  of  her 
and  resuming  the  walk.  "  If  you  had  been  con- 
tent to  remain  an  uncertain  danger,  all  would 
have  been  well.  But  you  must  happen  in  pro- 
pria  persona  and  muddle  everything  —  even  me." 

"  Walk  along  this  path  to  the  meadow,"  she 
murmured.  "  I  want  you  to  see  the  Holsteins. 
When  I  am  muddled,  I  come  down  here  and 
look  at  the  cows.  Aren't  you  fond  of  cows  ?  " 

"  Polly,"  I  said,  "  you  may  be  able  to  relieve 
my  mind  of  a  burden.  I  feel  that  my  family  has 
placed  itself  under  some  kind  of  obligation  to 
you,  and  as  a  man  of  honour  I  think  it  ought  to 
be  redeemed,  if  not  by  one,  why  then  by  another 
member  of  the  family.  Has  it  ever  occurred  to 
you  that  Charlie  may  be  too  young  to  see  it  in 
that  light?" 

We  had  come  to  the  heavy  stile  at  the  meadow, 
and  we  both  leaned  upon  it  close  together.  The 
Holsteins  dotted  the  green  stretches  with  their 
white  stomachers,  and  the  long  afternoon  shad- 
ows reached  across  the  fields  in  soft  bars. 

"  You  really  feel  sometimes,"  she  said,  "  that 
you  are  younger  than  Charlie,  don't  you  ?  Is 
that  what  you  mean  by  being  muddled  ? " 

"  Would  you  mind  telling  me  what  you  think  ?  " 

"  I  don't  think  there  is  so  much  difference 
between  you  as  one  ought  to  expect." 

"  Oh,  yes,  there  is.  I  cannot  do  the  same  things 
that  Charlie  does  —  at  least,  with  his  indifference. 
A  young  man  never  has  so  much  consideration 
for  other  persons." 

190 


I    BECOME   A   NONENTITY 

While  we  were  talking,  the  Holsteins  that  were 
scattered  about  the  field  began  to  move  slowly, 
in  converging  lines,  toward  us,  so  slowly  and 
softly  that  I  did  not  notice  it  until  they  had 
drawn  together  at  some  little  distance  and  were 
all  pointing  at  Polly.  I  looked  up  and  saw  the 
absurd  semicircle  of  beasts  that  had  closed  in 
upon  us,  as  if  indeed  Polly  carried  her  magnet- 
ism into  the  fields  and  all  things  came  toward 
her. 

"  Wait,"  she  said.  "  I  have  some  salt  in  my 
pocket.  You  shall  see  them  stick  out  their  big, 
jolly  tongues  and  lick  my  hand.  Aren't  they 
handsome,  with  their  velvet  belts  and  big  agate 
eyes  ? " 

They  came  so  close  that  I  could  smell  their 
minty  breaths,  —  a  warm,  musky  fragrance,  picked 
up  from  daisied  glades  and  gathered  along  wet, 
odorous  paths,  lush  with  medicinal  shoots  and 
blades  of  balsam.  One  or  two  of  them  tried  to 
say  something  in  their  own  absurdly  inarticulate 
and  mumbling  way  —  a  way  that  opened  great 
coral  caverns  of  mouths,  and  emitted  soft  rum- 
bling interrogative  moos,  not  unlike  the  summer 
rumble  of  the  heavens  after  a  hot,  dry  day, 
when  you  listen  to  the  mooing  in  the  far-off 
mountain. 

Polly  held  out  a  little  white  hand,  and  they  all 
came  up  in  turn  and  kissed  it,  —  beautiful,  half- 
mute  obeisance,  trying  to  contribute  its  homage 
from  the  nature  of  things ;  and  she  pulled  their 
velvety  ears  and  stroked  their  massive  jowls,  and 

191 


TANGLED  UP  IN  BEULAH  LAND 

had  untranslatable  words  for  each  one,  that  belong 
to  the  mid-kingdom  between  instinct  and  reason. 
I  believe  the  influence  of  the  honest  kine  must 
have  affected  me.  Perhaps  I  tried  myself  to  moo. 
It  is  some  time  ago,  and  I  cannot  be  accurate.  I 
leaned  close  to  my  companion  and  said :  — 

"  Polly,  be  frank  with  me  —  Charlie  has  hurt 

» 
you. 

She  gave  a  little  start,  as  if  I  had  tried  to  open 
the  lid  of  a  forbidden  casket.  But  her  impulsive 
frankness  dominated  her. 

"Yes  —  a  little,"  she  said;  "but  it  does  not 
count  now." 

I  pulled  her  a  little  closer. 

"  Yes,  it  does  count,"  I  insisted.  "  We  are 
both  hurt  in  the  same  way." 

"  Oh,  no  —  not  in  *he  same  way." 

"  Well,  at  least  by  the  same  act." 

"  No,  no  —  you  are  unjust." 

"  He  pretended  to  love  you." 

"  Pretended  ?     Dear  me." 

I  held  her  fast,  for  I  could  feel  her  shrink  from 
the  subject. 

"  It  must  have  been  a  pretence  if  it  was  so  short- 
lived. Something  or  somebody  interfered  with  it." 

"  Well  ?  " 

"Why  do  you  say  'well.'     It  is  not  well." 

"Isn't  it?" 

"  Why,  no.  How  can  it  be  ?  Now  he  loves 
somebody  else.  It's  lo,  isn't  it?  " 

"  Oh,  no,  certainly  not." 

"  What  ? " 

192 


I    BECOME   A    NONENTITY 

"  It  isn't  lo." 

"  Then  who,  in  the  name  of  all  the  youthful 
follies,  is  it  ?  " 

"You." 

"Try  and  be  serious  a  moment.  He  cannot 
help  that,  and  it  is  no  great  credit  to  one's  flesh 
and  blood.  You  understand  that  I  am  speaking 
of  his  recreancy  to  you." 

"Yes.  It  was  his  fidelity  to  you.  I  rather 
admired  it,  it  was  so  original.  He  couldn't  love 
anybody  unless  you  did." 

"  What  imbecility  !  Do  you  mean  to  say  that 
my  son  has  never  grown  out  of  his  infancy  and 
has  to  ask  his  father  what  kind  of  emotion  he 
shall  experience  ? " 

"  Oh,  his  father  stands  first  in  his  consideration. 
You  don't  know  him." 

"  Polly,  tell  me  honestly,  did  Charlie  ask  you 
if  you  could  love  him  ?  Speak  up.  We  want  to 
understand  each  other." 

She  turned  her  head  away  and  put  her  salty 
hand  to  her  mouth,  so  that  she  answered  through 
her  fingers. 

"  He  asked  me  if  I  thought  I  could  love  his 
Governor." 

"  Great   Solomon,    Polly,  and   what   did    you 

5  " 

say  r 

"  I  said  I  could  try,  —  he  had  set  me  such  a 
good  example.  And  I  did  try." 

She  must  have  rubbed  her  salty  hand  across 
her  eyes,  for,  as  I  pulled  her  face  gently  round, 
those  violet  eyes  were  swimming  again.  This 

'93 


TANGLED  UP  IN  BEULAH  LAND 

was  too  much  for  me.  I  had  no  immediate  words 
that  were  fitted  to  the  occasion ;  so  what  should  I 
do  but  pull  her  a  little  closer  and  kiss  her,  —  that 
being  in  some  sort  an  acknowledgment  to  her  as 
well  as  a  comfort  to  myself,  the  cows  looking  on 
complacently,  as  if  it  were  part  of  the  ordinances. 

"  I  think  we  understand  each  other  better,"  I 
said,  not  quite  understanding  myself. 

"  Yes,  and  so  we  need  not  mention  the  subject 
again,  for  after  all  it  isn't  a  matter  of  life  and 
death.  I  should  hate  to  imagine  myself  bereaved." 

"You  never  shall.  When  a  father  sees  his 
duty  clearly,  he  always  expects  his  son  to  per- 
form it." 

This  was  at  last  so  exactly  idiotic  in  its  fitness  to 
the  occasion  that  one  of  the  cattle  smiled  ponder- 
ously, which  looked  very  much  like  a  yawn ;  but 
Polly  only  said  :  — 

"  He  always  performed  it,  didn't  he  ? " 

"  Yes,  according  to  his  changing  lights.  He 
may  consider  it  his  duty  now  to  be  a  ninny." 

"  His  duty  to  you  ?  " 

"  Suppose  we  hurry  back.  I  should  like  to 
give  him  some  fresh  points  on  what  may  be  his 
duty  to  me." 

"  I  am  sure  it  would  be  more  comfortable  for 
everybody  to  let  him  find  out  for  himself.  Besides, 
it  really  isn't  of  so  much  importance." 

Then  we  returned  along  the  lane,  Polly  hang- 
ing to  my  arm  with  what  I  thought  was  a  new 
confidence,  and  after  some  little  argument  she 
consented  to  accompany  me  to  the  Doctor's  man- 

194 


I    BECOME   A   NONENTITY 

sion  and  undergo  the  ordeal  of  Mesdames  Dewey's 
and  Coldcream's  inspection,  an  ordeal  from  which 
she  did  not  flinch  and  of  the  success  of  which  I,  in 
my  infatuation,  had  not  the  least  doubt. 

I  recall  that  walk  back  from  the  meadow  with 
a  vivid  memory.  These  incidental  pictures  remain 
longest  in  the  mind  and  flash  their  colours  with 
unfading  brilliancy.  Polly  must  have  noticed 
that  I  held  to  her  with  a  new  zest,  as  if  I  had  in 
some  measure  reclaimed  her.  I  remember  that 
there  was  a  peculiar  golden  glow  over  the  land- 
scape, and  I  was  bucolic  enough  to  remark  that 
it  seemed  to  come  through  fresh  cream.  Polly 
only  said,  "  If  you  don't  mind,  I'll  take  my 
banjo  with  me,"  and,  as  I  had  to  carry  it,  we  ar- 
rived at  the  Doctor's  porch  like  two  wandering 
minstrels,  but  received  a  boisterous  reception. 

It  was  well  that  I  had  brought  her  back,  for  that 
evening  down  came  Mr.  Fancher  and  two  or 
three  of  his  associates  to  pay  their  respects  to  the 
guests,  and  to  make  the  old  house  ring  with  their 
merriment,  in  which  the  Doctor  joined  with  a 
youthful  zest  that  was  amazing,  and  Polly  with 
her  banjo  and  her  vivacity  violated  all  forms  and 
delighted  everybody. 

Madame  Coldcream  and  I  watched  the  young 
people  from  our  corner,  vainly  endeavouring  to 
read,  between  all  the  lines  of  merrymaking,  some 
sober  purposes  that  might  be  lurking  there.  But 
it  was  of  no  use.  Charlie  did  not  hesitate  to  rival 
Mr.  Fancher  in  dancing  attendance  upon  lo,  and 
I  could  not  see  that  Polly  was  at  all  distressed  by 


TANGLED  UP  IN  BEULAH  LAND 

it.  When  it  grew  late,  and  those  of  us  whose 
stock  of  merriment  was  not  large  were  preparing 
to  leave  the  young  folks  to  make  a  night  of  it,  my 
sister  caught  me  in  the  hallway. 

"  Rufus,"  she  said,  "  you  are  entirely  off  your 
base."  (My  excellent  sister  occasionally  uses 
sporting  terms.)  "  I  wouldn't  give  that "  (snap- 
ping her  fingers)  "  for  your  or  the  Doctor's  dis- 
cernment. You  are  a  pair  of  most  exemplary 
bats.  I  can't  tell  you  now,  for  I  have  a  slight 
headache  and  must  go  to  bed.  It  is  too  late  to 
explain,  but  Nature  does  not  need  my  assistance. 
These  people  get  up  in  the  morning  at  most 
pagan  hours  and  I  must  get  a  few  winks  of  sleep. 
Good  night." 


196 


CHAPTER   XI 

THE    TOURNAMENT    AND    WHAT    CAME    OF    IT 

1jy?^N  the  midst  of  preparation  I  alone 
<^>>  lacked  a  merry  heart.  It  was  plain 
(^^T  enough  that  any  social  event  as- 
6JSK  sumed  undue  proportions  to  this 
igsC  household,  dependent  for  the  most 
^iCj**  part  upon  themselves  for  festivity. 
There  was,  I  noticed,  a  slightly  feverish  anxiety 
and  an  unusual  activity  on  that  morning  of  the 
tournament.  The  Doctor  himself  was  not  entirely 
free  from  excitement.  He  bounced  in,  shouted 
amiable  imperatives,  and  bounced  out.  The  break- 
fast, at  a  most  unseemly  hour,  was  hurried  through 
as  a  matter  of  routine  duty,  and  even  lo,  I  thought, 
wore  something  like  a  suppressed  flutter  on  her 
madonna  face.  The  only  person  who  preserved 
an  observant  composure,  and  insisted  on  taking 
all  the  time  that  propriety  called  for  over  her 
coffee,  was  my  sister,  and  presently  she  and  I 

197 


TANGLED  UP  IN  BEULAH  LAND 

found  ourselves  deserted  at  the  table,  not  yet 
having  finished  our  meal. 

"  Rufus,"  she  said,  "  we  must  be  getting  old. 
Neither  of  us  seems  to  be  human  enough  to  be 
disturbed." 

"  I  am  afraid,"  I  said,  "  that  with  our  experience 
we  are  apt  to  regard  tournaments  as  a  bore." 

"  Yes,  undoubtedly  ;  but  it  is  part  of  woman's 
education  to  be  bored  patiently.  I  think,  how- 
ever, there  is  a  surprise  in  store  for  you  at  this 
particular  merrymaking." 

"  For  me  ?  -I  wish  you  would  prepare  me  for 
it." 

"  That's  just  it.  I  am  not  in  the  secret.  I 
only  suspect,  and  could  not  help  overhearing  a 
word  or  two." 

"  It  is  very  annoying,"  I  said,  "  that  there 
should  be  secrets  when  there  is  no  occasion  for 
them." 

"  There  wouldn't  be  any,  Rufus,  if  there  weren't 
men.  A  secret  is  merely  a  defect  of  vision." 

"  Now  see  here,  Petunia,"  I  said,  with  some 
irritation,  "  I  have  been  very  much  disturbed  by 
what  I  may  call  a  complication,  which  is  partly 
of  my  own  making,  and  I  don't  think  you  ought 
to  add  any  more  weight  to  it  than  you  can  avoid. 
Just  tell  me  plainly  what  it  is  you  think  will  sur- 
prise me  ;  perhaps,  if  it  isn't  an  agreeable  surprise, 
I  may  prevent  or  avoid  it." 

"  That's  it.  It  is  never  safe  to  tell  you  any- 
thing. You  rush  off  at  a  parental  tangent  and 
make  a  fuss.  Now  if  you  will  just  remain  cool 

198 


THE   TOURNAMENT 

and  indifferent,  as  I  do,  and  let  things  take  their 
course,  you  can  laugh  at  surprises.  Nature  will 
have  its  own  way.  The  truth  is  a  father  who  has 
a  son  old  enough  to  crack  stone  should  be  inured 
to  surprises." 

"It  seems  to  me  that  you  are  intimating  as 
plainly  as  you  can  that  it  is  my  son  who  has  a 
surprise  for  me." 

"  I  am  sure  of  it.  The  boy  is  in  love,  and 
you  are  bothering  him.  He  is  liable  to  do  any- 
thing rash." 

"  I  don't  believe  a  word  of  it.  He  may  be  in 
love,  and  I  think  he  is,  but  it  does  not  at  all  fol- 
low that  he  will  deceive  me,  and  nothing  else  would 
surprise  me.  But  to  make  sure  of  it,  I  will  take 
the  young  bull  by  the  horns." 

As  I  got  upon  my  feet  with  impulsive  deter- 
mination, Petunia  imitated  me,  and  took  hold  of 
my  arm.  But  before  she  could  say  anything,  the 
Doctor  burst  in  upon  us. 

"  Now,  then,  my  excellent  friends,"  he  cried, 
"  if  we  are  to  get  away  before  the  sun  is  unen- 
durable, you  really  must  come  along." 

"  Where  is  that  son  of  mine  ?  "  I  asked,  some- 
what anxiously. 

"  That  son  of  yours  has  been  gone  ten  minutes. 
He  and  lo  are  in  the  saddle.  The  surrey  is  wait- 
ing for  Mrs.  Dewey,  who  is  going  under  my  pro- 
tection, and  the  phaeton  is  there  for  you  and  Polly, 
as  you  desired.  Heavenly  smoke,  man,  go  and 
hunt  up  Bob,  and  leave  my  guests  to  me." 

Polly  and  I  jogged  along  in  the  family  phaeton 
199 


TANGLED  UP  IN  BEULAH  LAND 

after  all  the  inmates  of  the  house  had  set  out  with 
a  compounded  hurrah-boys  air.  It  was  early  in 
the  morning.  The  sun  had  not  been  up  long 
enough  to  dispel  the  dew,  and  the  shadows  of  the 
trees  lay  long  and  damp  over  the  road.  I  could 
not  recall  that  I  had  ridden  at  so  early  an  hour  for 
twenty  years. 

"  Polly,"  I  said,  when  we  were  seated  side  by 
side,  "  Charlie  has  avoided  me  for  several  days,  I 
fancy.  What  do  you  suppose  can  be  the  reason  ?  " 

"  I  cannot,  for  the  life  of  me,  imagine,"  said 
Polly,  "  what  any  one  should  avoid  you  for.  But 
then  I  haven't  had  as  much  of  you  as  Charlie  has." 

"  There  is  something  on  his  mind  and  in  his 
conduct  that  I  do  not  understand.  He  hurried 
off  with  Miss  lo  before  I  could  get  a  word  with 
him." 

"  The  Doctor  hurried  them  off  together.  He 
is  terribly  brisk  in  the  mornings.  Mr.  Charlie  is 
all  right." 

"  Do  you  really  feel  that  way,  Polly  ?  " 

"Oh,  yes,  I'm  naturally  of  a  generous  disposi- 
tion." 

"  What  do  persons  do  at  these  tournaments  ?  " 

"  They  sit  on  the  balcony  and  watch  the  young 
men  play  polo,  and  then  they  eat  a  trout  dinner, 
and  call  on  the  Doctor  to  make  a  speech.  Then 
they  have  a  dance,  and  flirt  and  gossip,  and  drive 
home  in  the  moonlight.  You'll  enjoy  it." 

"  Will  you  ?  " 

"  Certainly  —  if  it's  moonlight  and  you  drive 
me  back." 

200 


THE   TOURNAMENT 

"  I  mea,n  the  festival." 

"  Oh,  yes,  that's  great  fun  in  its  way.  The  Club 
members  will  try  to  break  their  necks,  and  the  old 
folks  will  look  on,  and  lo  will  be  perked  up  on  a 
throne  and  not  move  a  muscle  if  two  of  them  are 
killed.  She  has  a  great  deal  of  firmness." 

"  I  fancy  it  will  be  something  of  a  bore  to  me. 
I  would  rather  sit  down  at  the  Swirl  and  talk  to 
you." 

"  Oh,  no,  you  will  be  surprised." 

"  Surprised  ?  There  you  go.  That  is  what 
Mrs.  Dewey  said.  But  you  are  confidential  enough 
to  forewarn  me.  What  am  I  to  be  surprised  at  ?  " 

"  Well,  then,  you  will  be  surprised  at  the  com- 
pany, first  of  all.  There  will  be  the  homespun 
gentry  and  the  city  athletes.  Then  the  dinner 
will  surprise  you  ;  then,  lo  will  be  a  surprise,  and, 
last  of  all,  HE  will  astonish  you." 

"These  things  do  not  appear. to  promise  any 
surprises.  You  must  remember  that  I  am  a  some- 
what blase  veteran." 

"  That's  the  reason  it  will  surprise  you  —  like 
a  new  salad.  The  young  gentlemen  of  the  Club 
are  so  far  away  from  their  city  governors  that  they 
think  they  can  let  themselves  loose  in  the  woods." 

"  You  have  been  to  the  annual  tournament 
before." 

"  I  missed  it  last  year.  I  was  in  New  York. 
But  the  year  before  I  attended  it.  I'll  tell  you 
what  they  did.  First,  they  had  the  joust  on  the 
lawn.  Polo  and  hurdles  and  rough-riding.  They 
picked  up  handkerchiefs  (the  ladies'  handker- 

201 


TANGLED  UP  IN  BEULAH  LAND 

chiefs)  at  full  gallop,  and  kept  them  as  prizes  ;  and 
Barclay  Jennings  was  thrown  and  dislocated  his 
shoulder  ;  and  Frank  Buckley  sprained  his  ankle  ; 
and  they  had  to  carry  them  upstairs,  and  the  Doc- 
tor took  his  coat  off  and  operated  —  yes,  he  did. 
'  Now  this  is  something  like  sport,'  said  HE.  '  Get 
me  warm  water  and  bandages.'  (  Bind  it  up  with 
that  handkerchief,  Doctor,'  says  Frank  Buckley ; 
1  the  one  with  the  pink  monogram  on  it.'  *  Tush, 
tush,  boys,'  says  the  Doctor,  '  we'll  keep  that  for 
the  next  patient,  who  will  probably  dislocate  his 
neck.  You  keep  quiet  or  I  will  take  your  leg  off.' 
You  know  it  was  lo's  handkerchief." 

"  I  should  think  that  would  have  dampened 
the  merriment." 

"O  dear,  no  —  enhanced  it.  lo  put  on  a 
white  apron  and  played  the  nurse  in  spite  of  the 
Doctor,  who  ramped  and  stamped  and  said : 
1  Holy  smoke,  girl,  don't  you  do  it.  We'll  have 
the  whole  Club  dislocated.' ' 

And  here  Polly  let  off  a  little  roulade  of 
laughter  like  a  small  sky-rocket. 

"Yes,"  I  said,  "  I  can  understand  that  lo  as  a 
nurse  is  worth  risking  one's  neck  for." 

"  The  Doctor  said  she  was  too  ridiculous  —  let 
me  see,  what  was  it  he  did  say  —  oh,  yes,  f  Great 
Scott,'  says  he,  ( fancy  a  man  with  a  sprained 
ankle  who  wants  his  temples  bathed  every  ten 
minutes.  Where's  Bob  ? '  " 

Then  I  tried  to  execute  a  roulade  of  my  own. 
I'm  afraid  I  was  not  in  very  good  voice. 

"  Is  Mr.  Fancher  a  rough  rider  ? "  I  asked, 
202 


THE   TOURNAMENT 

feeling  a  little  gleam  of  hope  that  perhaps  he 
would  be  the  surprise  in  store  for  me,  and  in- 
tended to  risk  his  neck. 

"  I  should  think  he  must  be,"  replied  Polly. 
"  You  know  he  told  the  Doctor  he  intended  to 
marry  lo.  That  was  rather  desperate,  wasn't  it?  " 

"  I  should  like  to  know  what  it  was  the  Doctor 
really  said  to  the  proposition." 

"Oh,  I  can  tell  you.  HE  said:  {  Tush,  tush, 
my  son,  you  had  better  stick  to  your  regular 
amusement  and  break  your  neck  in  some  other 
comfortable  way.  I  flatter  myself  I'm  master 
.of  this  paddock.'  Did  it  ever  occur  to  you  that 
the  Doctor  is  especially  good  at  flattering  him- 
self? " 

"  Polly,"  I  said  quite  seriously,  "  the  Doctor 
has  set  his  mind  on  marrying  lo  to  Charlie.  He 
has  reasoned  himself  into  a  belief  that  it  is  a 
duty." 

"  Yes,  dear  old  goose,  you  can't  help  feeling 
sorry  for  him." 

"  For  Charlie,  you  mean." 

"  No,  for  the  Doctor." 

"You  don't  believe  that  Charlie  will  ever 
marry  lo  ? "  I  asked,  as  I  tightened  on  the  reins 
and,  without  knowing  it,  stopped  the  horse  in  the 
road. 

.  "  Never,"  said  Polly,  with  what  I  thought  was 
a  soft  intensity.     "  What  have  you  stopped  for?  " 

"You  must  have  taken  my  breath  and  the 
horse's  at  the  same  time.  Get  up,  Periwinkle. 
Polly,  if  there  is  anybody  to  be  sorry  for,  it  is 

203 


TANGLED  UP  IN  BEULAH  LAND 

you.  I  should  think  you  could  see  that  Charlie, 
like  all  the  rest  of  them,  has  fallen  down  abjectly 
at  lo's  feet.  He's  bewitched." 

She  was  looking  straight  ahead,  and  I  could 
not  see  her  telltale  eyes,  but  I  thought  she  shook 
her  head  with  a  slightly  negative  action,  as  if  she 
had  repeated  to  herself  the  word  never.  Whether 
it  was  resolution  or  faith  in  Charlie  I  could  not 
tell,  but  in  either  case,  it  had  only,  for  me,  a 
tender  solicitude.  She  was  a  confiding  girl,  after 
all,  believing  with  a  girl's  innocence  that  a  young 
man  holds  his  vows  sacred.  How  little  she  knew 
of  the  power  of  passion  in  the  young  man  to  blind 
the  judgment  and  hide  the  consequences.  And 
yet,  the  father  instinct  of  me  felt  strangely  touched 
by  the  fidelity  of  this  girl,  who,  in  spite  of  all, 
believed  in  Charlie,  or  pretended  to. 

"  We  shall  never  get  to  the  tournament,"  she 
said,  "  if  you  do  not  drive  faster." 

"  Bother  the  tournament,"  I  replied.  "  It 
seems  to  me  we  have  come  to  it.  Polly,  just 
listen  to  me  a  moment.  You  are  strangely  con- 
fident. I  honour  you  for  it,  but  I  do  not  feel 
about  it  as  you  do,  and  I  am  going  to  ask  you  to 
do  a  strange  thing." 

"  Wait  a  moment,"  she  said.  "  Stop  the  horse. 
I  want  to  gather  some  of  those  wild  flowers,"  and 
out  she  jumped. 

I  watched  her  flitting  in  the  grass  and  among 
the  bushes,  plucking  the  summer  blooms  that  had 
come  up  with  many  colours  along  the  stretch  of 
damp  meadow,  and  the  unconscious  grace  of  mo- 

204 


THE   TOURNAMENT 

tion  and  strong  relief  of  her  lithe  figure  against 
the  shadowy  wood  filled  me  with  new  admira- 
tion. There  was  something  about  Polly,  seen 
thus,  that  defied  all  analysis  that  I  could  com- 
mand. Whenever  I  thought  of  her  and  lo  with 
comparative  intent  as  two  pictures,  it  always 
seemed  to  me  that  one  of  them  carried  her  own 
light  and  irradiated  herself  without  knowing  it. 
She  possessed  a  human  and  fluctuant  quality  that 
fitted  itself  inimitably  and  instantly,  like  that  little 
river,  to  whatever  it  touched.  As  she  went  lightly 
among  the  stems,  she  occasionally  looked  toward 
me,  holding  up  a  bunch  of  colours,  but  I  saw  only 
the  glad  smiling  face,  and  it  seemed  to  me  that  this 
was  what  Vernet  and  all  those  French  romancers 
of  the  brush  had  been  trying  to  realize.  Pres- 
ently she  climbed  back  into  the  phaeton  with  her 
burden,  and  once  bestowed,  she  said,  in  the  most 
matter-of-fact  way :  — 

"  I  interrupted  you.  You  were  going  to  say 
something  and  you  looked  solemn.  Have  you 
thought  it  over  ?  " 

"Polly,"  I  said,  "if you  do  not  marry  Charlie 
—  will  you  marry  me  ?  It  isn't  so  much  of  a 
pledge  as  a  test." 

She  turned  squarely  round,  held  out  her 
hand,  and,  without  the  least  hesitation,  replied 
promptly :  — 

"  Yes,  sir." 

It  came  at  me  so  plumply  that  I  held  her  hand 
until  she  pulled  it  away,  and  being  for  a  moment 
unable  to  make  out  the  exact  meaning  of  her 

205 


TANGLED    UP   IN    BEULAH    LAND 

promptitude,  must  have  looked  rather  wonder- 
ingly  sentimental.  Nevertheless,  my  remaining 
good  sense  told  me  that  it  was  simply  a  declara- 
tion on  her  part  that  she  would  never  be  called 
upon  to  marry  me. 

"  Now,  please  whip  up  the  horse,"  she  said. 
"  We  must  not  think  altogether  of  ourselves. 
There  are  others." 

We  arrived  at  the  Club  House  about  nine 
o'clock.  A  more  romantic  spot  could  not  have 
been  found  than  this  broad  plateau  on  the  moun- 
tain side,  with  a  torrent  tumbling  down  within 
view,  and  a  great  campus  stretching  out  under  the 
ancestral  trees  in  front,  beyond  which  the  misty 
perspectives  of  the  valleys  made  spacious  out- 
looks. 

We  were  hailed  from  the  crowded  balcony  with 
shouts  of  greeting,  and  Polly  was  carried  off  by  a 
body-guard  of  athletic  young  men.  I  saw  but 
little  of  her  after  that,  save  in  flashes,  and  only 
heard  of  her  in  airy  gurgles,  blown  to  me  from 
the  wood,  and  always  accompanied,  I  thought,  by 
a  chorus  of  acclamations. 

The  only  distinguishing  feature  of  such  an 
affair  as  was  this  is  the  easy  determination  of 
everybody  to  leave  as  many  of  the  conventions 
behind  as  is  compatible  with  the  association  of 
ladies  and  gentlemen.  The  young  men  of  the 
Club,  in  becoming  hosts  for  one  day,  demanded 
and  received  the  right  to  mingle  some  of  the  free- 
dom of  an  outdoor  camp  with  the  amenities  of 
a  formal  function.  Even  the  dowagers  and  vet- 

206 


THE   TOURNAMENT 

erans  who  have  to  be  present  for  protective  rea- 
sons are  supposed  to  relax  a  little  of  their  vigilance 
in  the  wildwood,  and  their  endeavour  to  do  so  on 
this  occasion  was  to  me  one  of  the  most  amusing 
features  of  the  gathering,  and  I  saw  with  zest,  before 
the  day  was  over,  the  proper  Madame  Coldcream 
skipping  in  the  grass  with  wide-awake  hat  on,  and 
positively  showing  her  autumnal  ankles  with  some- 
thing like  mature  abandonment. 

How  much  a  tournament  costs  these  profligate 
young  men  I  should  not  like  to  estimate.  They 
had  French  cooks  from  Philadelphia  and  New 
York,  and  coloured  waiters  from  the  Hot  Springs, 
to  say  nothing  of  the  Hungarian  band  and  exotic 
flowers.  There  were  wine  and  cigars  galore,  and 
Roman  punches  handed  round  in  tiny  Dresden 
bowls,  hired,  I  dare  say,  for  the  occasion.  Then, 
too,  they  had  assembled  most  of  the  landed  gen- 
try in  the  county,  or  at  least  that  portion  of  them 
which  had  eligible  daughters  likely  to  be  inter- 
ested in  the  sports  of  the  city  gentlemen,  and  a 
variegated  and  interesting  collection  it  made,  re- 
minding me  more  of  Commencement  Day  at  West 
Point  than  of  any  other  tournament  I  had  ever 
attended,  minus,  of  course,  those  fetching  gray 
coats  and  white  trousers. 

Polly  had  described  the  festivities  with  her  usual 
accuracy.  Most  of  the  members  had  their  hunters 
brought  down,  and  there  was  an  exhibition  of  high 
jumping.and  other  reminiscences  of  the  New  York 
Horse  Show,  with  a  competing  struggle  for  the 
handkerchief,  which  lo  from  her  chair  of  state 

207 


TANGLED  UP  IN  BEULAH  LAND 

had  given  up,  all  of  which  elicited  a  good  deal  of 
hearty  applause  from  the  ladies  and  some  criti- 
cism from  the  Doctor,  who  had  served  a  term  on 
the  plains  and  was  familiar  with  the  feats  of  the 
cowboys.  When  it  was  over  the  guests  and  the 
club  men  paired  off,  and  I  saw  Mr.  Fancher  carry 
away  lo  on  his  arm,  and  caught  a  glimpse  of  Polly 
hanging  to  a  stalwart  beau. 

I  must  have  acted  a  little  morosely,  I  suppose, 
straying  off  alone  and  trying  to  make  up  my  mind 
if,  after  all,  it  might  not  be  an  allowable  arrange- 
ment to  claim  Polly  for  myself  and  let  Charlie  go 
his  headlong  way.  I  own  that  I  had  a  growing 
inclination  to  retain  Polly  in  my  family,  and  it 
seemed  to  me  at  the  moment  that  Polly  had 
evinced  no  opposition  to  being  retained  one  way 
or  the  other.  The  simple  fact  is  Polly  had  grown 
by  some  inscrutable  virtue  of  her  own  to  be  a  very 
important  consideration  with  me,  and  I  confess 
that  I  gave  way  to  the  ignoble  thought  for  a 
moment,  that  perhaps  it  would  be  well  to  let 
Nature  have  her  way  with  the  three  of  us.  Even 
fathers  have  their  weak  moments.  Might  it  not 
be  that  Fate  had  reserved  Polly  for  my  mature 
rescuing  ?  It  would  not  be  such  a  monstrous 
thing  if  the  girl  saw  something  in  the  father  — 
better  balanced  and  more  reliable  —  than  had  won 
her  in  the  son.  I  had  gone  so  far  as  to  make  an 
unprecedented  and  conditional  proposal  to  Polly, 
and  the  girl  had  accepted  it  promptly  and  frankly. 
For  the  life  of  me  I  could  not  make  out,  now  that 
I  thought  it  over,  whether  her  acceptance  was  of 

208 


THE   TOURNAMENT 

me  or  the  result  that  was  already  guaranteed  to 
her  faith. 

So  it  was  that  Polly,  by  baffling  me,  won  me  to 
an  admiration  that  was  beyond  all  reason.  And 
so  it  always  is  with  a  man  when  he  gets  past  his 
headlong  stage.  He  begins  to  worship  a  supernal 
twitter  that  reminds  him  of  his  own  youth. 
Against  the  chiselled  lo,  Polly  seemed  to  throb 
and  quiver  and  smile  and  weep  as  the  tides  of  life 
went  exultingly  on. 

Now  this  is  all  very  well,  but  when  a  father  of 
fifty  with  a  son  of  twenty  gets  into  this  tangle,  he 
has  to  deal  with  a  new  element,  utterly  unknown 
to  the  youthful  lover  who  is  foot-loose.  The 
parental  bonds  are  tight.  He  may  play  at  the 
selfishness  of  passion,  but  he  cannot  get  rid  of 
the  father's  loyalty.  I  do  not  know  which  is  the 
most  craven,  his  admiration  for  that  which  is  most 
admirable  in  a  girl,  or  his  sympathy  for  that  which 
is  most  contemptible  in  his  own  offspring.  It 
was  plain  enough  to  me  that  Charlie,  like  all  the 
rest  of  them,  was  under  the  spell  of  lo.  How 
could  I  help  pitying  him.  Suppose  she  jilted 
him.  Just  think  of  that  poor  fellow  being  all 
smashed  up  at  his  age.  And  then  I  was  respon- 
sible for  most  of  it  myself.  What  did  the  Doctor 
know  of  a  father's  feelings  ? 

So  I  wandered  about  and  smoked  my  cigar  and 
watched  the  romp  of  exuberant  nature,  and  tried 
to  read  for  myself  between  the  lines  of  flirtation. 
Do  my  best,  I  could  not  discover  any  surprises. 
There  were  some  bouncing  girls  in  the  bowling 

209 


TANGLED  UP  IN  BEULAH  LAND 

alley  —  one  of  them  had  dropped  a  ball  on  her 
toes  and  was  being  fanned  in  a  chair;  another  had 
made  a  ten-strike  and  fainted.  There  were  other 
groups  in  the  billiard  room  and  on  the  croquet 
ground.  It  was  all  traditional,  and  familiar  to 
the  man  who  has  been  through  it.  But  I  noted 
that  Mr.  Fancher  had  appropriated  lo,  and  I 
fondly  believed  that  my  boy,  like  myself,  was 
wandering  about  slightly  disgruntled,  not  even 
caring  to  interfere  with  Barclay  Jennings,  who  had 
carried  off  Polly.  As  for  the  Doctor,  he  had 
encountered  Judge  Gates  of  Mifflin,  one  of  the 
staunchest  of  the  old  Quaker  stock  of  Pennsylva- 
nia, with  a  large  family  of  girls  and  boys,  several 
of  whom  had  come  with  him  and  were  introduced 
as  Pearl  and  Sapphira  and  Jasper,  for,  as  the 
Doctor  gallantly  remarked,  the  Gates  house- 
hold had  as  many  shining  portals  as  the  Holy 
City.  With  this  staunch  old  gentleman,  the 
Doctor  entered  into  an  argument  on  protection 
and  free  trade,  to  the  delectation  of  a  small  group 
of  ancients,  and  the  consequence  was  that  the 
young  folks  had  everything  their  own  way,  and 
everything  seemed  to  gallop  or  dawdle  in  the 
familiar  and  preordained  route.  The  dinner  was 
quite  an  achievement  of  its  kind,  with  mountains 
of  wild  berries  and  trout  in  various  modes. 
There  were  appropriate  wines  and  confections, 
and  Mr.  Fancher  was  master  of  ceremonies. 
He  had  put  lo  at  the  end  of  the  table,  and  had  a 
wreath  of  white  roses  suspended  above  her  head 
like  a  halo.  He  took  good  care  to  have  the  seat 

210 


THE   TOURNAMENT 

next  to  her,  and  to  have  my  son  pushed  down  to 
the  other  end  among  the  reverend  seniors,  where 
he  was  compelled  to  listen  to  the  Pearl  Gates  open- 
ing and  shutting.  I  think  Mr.  Fancher  managed 
to  say  to  the  Doctor  in  this  arrangement,  without 
any  words,  that  at  this  banquet  his  worthy  guest 
was  not  quite  master  of  the  paddock.  So  there 
was  some  good-natured  cut  and  thrust  between 
them  which  amused  the  rest  of  us,  though  the  wit 
was  not  remarkable.  When  the  Doctor  asked 
what  the  thing  was  above  Miss  Jo's  head,  Mr. 
Fancher  replied  that  it  was  a  reminder  that  she 
was  not  under  a  cloud  for  one  day.  It  was  a 
crown.  Whereupon  the  young  men  applauded, 
and  lo  did  not  even  blush,  though  the  Doctor 
called  upon  her  vehemently  to  do  so  for  the  sake 
of  her  sex,  and  Polly  tartly  volunteered  to  do  it 
for  her. 

With  such  exhilaration  as  the  dinner  afforded, 
they  gathered  on  the  lawn,  and  with  the  Hunga- 
rian band  well  disposed,  danced  the  hours  away 
until  the  moon  was  up. 

As  I  sat  on  the  balcony  with  "  Mother  "  and 
Madame  Coldcream,  watching  the  figures,  and 
remarking  that  Polly  was  the  best  dancer  in  the 
party,  the  Doctor  came  up,  and  touching  me  on 
the  shoulder,  drew  me  away  from  the  group. 

"  What  do  you  suppose  has  become  of  lo  ?  " 
he  whispered.  "  She  and  Fancher  have  not  been 
seen  for  an  hour,  and  these  runagates  are  too  mad 
to  miss  anything." 

"  They  are    probably  wandering  about  in  the 

211 


TANGLED  UP  IN  BEULAH  LAND 

moonlight  somewhere,"  I  replied.  "  I  saw  them 
this  afternoon  in  a  shady  dell  holding  each  other's 
hands." 

"  Confound  that  fellow,"  said  the  Doctor.  "  I 
don't  want  to  mar  this  merrymaking,  but  I  sup- 
pose I  must  give  him  a  piece  of  my  mind. 
Don't  worry  the  old  lady  about  it  —  I'll  find 
out." 

And  he  strode  off.  I  heard  afterward  that  he 
went  down  among  the  dancing  groups  to  make 
inquiries,  and  catching  Barclay  Jennings  between 
whirls,  he  asked,  "  What  has  become  of  Fancher  ? " 
and  Jennings,  keeping  time  with  one  leg,  and 
speaking  in  puffs,  said  :  — 

"  Fancher  ?  Why,  Fancher,  he's  gone  to  New 
York.  Now,  then,  Miss  Polly,  there's  the  waltz." 

The  Doctor  took  out  his  big  red  handkerchief 
and  wiped  his  forehead.  He  waited  for  a  few 
moments  to  catch  Jennings  again,  and  this  time 
he  caught  him  by  the  arm. 

"  Look  here,  young  man,  one  of  my  family, 
Miss  lo,  has  not  been  seen  for  an  hour.  I'm  a 
little  anxious  about  her." 

"  Miss  lo  ?  "  says  Jennings,  beating  time  with 
his  hand,  "  oh,  she's  all  right.  She's  gone  to 
New  York  too.  You  see  I  was  to  go  with  them 
as  best  man,  but  I  got  tangled  up  in  this  dance, 
and  they  were  in  such  a  confounded  hurry  — " 
and  then  Jennings  was  swept  away  in  the  waves 
of  motion. 

The  Doctor  has  what  is  called  a  level  head. 
He  took  in  the  matter  at  one  gulp,  and  sup- 

212 


THE   TOURNAMENT 

pressed  himself  with  admirable  will,  for  he  per- 
fectly well  understood  that  Fancher  in  such  an 
escapade  would  have  the  sympathy  of  the  Club, 
if  indeed  the  Club  had  not  been  his  fellow-con- 
spirators. 

He  looked  at  his  watch.  The  through  train  did 
not  pass  Tuskaloo  for  an  hour.  He  could  get 
there  in  time,  and  make  such  a  row  that  the  val- 
iant Mr.  Fancher  would  back  away  from  the  in- 
dignant brawn  of  Tuskaloo.  Besides,  he  would 
take  Boylston  with  him,  and  Boylston  had  once 
broken  a  man's  back. 

This  was  all  very  natural,  and  very  like  the 
Doctor,  who  in  an  emergency  was  a  very  cool 
and  determined  man.  But  when  he  got  back  to 
the  balcony,  carrying  his  Panama  in  his  hand, 
and  still  mopping  his  forehead,  he  encountered 
"  Mother "  and  me,  we  having  withdrawn  from 
the  group,  and  "Mother"  handed  him  a  note 
that  had  just  reached  her.  She  pressed  her  two 
fingers  on  her  lips  as  he  read  it,  rather,  I  thought, 
to  suppress  him  this  time  than  herself.  It  was 
very  simple  and  direct.  All  it  said  was  :  — 

"  Don't  worry  about  me — Married  at  Tuska- 
loo—  Will  telegraph  from  New  York.  lo." 

The  Doctor  looked  crestfallen  rather  than 
grim. 

"  Don't  discuss  the  matter  here,"  he  said.  "  A 
misfortune  is  bad  enough,  but  to  have  it  turned 
into  a  joke  is  worse.  We'll  get  away,  if  you  don't 
mind,  as  soon  as  possible.  Just  find  our  people 
and  I'll  order  the  teams." 

213 


TANGLED  UP  IN  BEULAH  LAND 

In  such  a  denouement  my  first  thought  was 
of  Charlie.  How  would  he  take  this  blow  ?  I 
sighed  for  him.  This  was  his  first  shock  in  life. 
He  had  never  had  any  disappointments.  His 
poor  young  heart  would  probably  feel  very  dis- 
mal, and  life,  for  a  time  at  least,  would  not  be 
worth  living.  I  must  find  him  at  once,  and,  like 
a  true  father,  come  to  his  assistance  and  brace 
him  up. 

That  Hungarian  band  was  getting  infernal.  I 
went  down  and  hunted  for  him  through  the  gal- 
loping coterie.  When  I  caught  him  with  an 
affectionate  but  firm  grasp,  I  said  :  — 

"My  boy,  something  has  happened.  Prepare 
yourself  for  a  great  shock." 

He  was  blowing  like  a  porpoise. 

"What  is  it?"  he  said  — "Madame  Cold- 
cream  had  a  paralytic  stroke  ?  " 

"  Miss  lo  has  eloped  with  Mr.  Fancher." 

He  was  not  looking  at  me  at  all.  His  eyes 
were  going  up  and  down  with  the  music  and  the 
figures. 

"Yes,"  he  said,  "I  heard  of  it.  Wait  a 
moment,  Dad,  till  I  finish  this  dance,  and  I'll  be 
with  you.  Polly  is  engaged  to  me  for  this  set." 


214 


CHAPTER   XII 

POLLY    UNTANGLES 

>HE  morning  after  this  unexpected 
and  unpardonable  escapade  of  lo's 
broke  rainy  and  leaden.  I  must 
have  overslept  myself  owing  to  the 
sombre  light  of  my  chamber.  I 
stood  at  my  open  window  and  lis- 
tened to  the  rain.  It  was  pattering  with  steady 
persistency  on  the  rose  vines  and  running  in  riv- 
ulets from  the  porches.  It  was  one  of  those 
summer  rains  that  come  now  and  then  in  June 
and  July  and  that  have  a  reminder  of  April  and  a 
presage  of  September  in  them — something  passed 
and  something  chilly  approaching.  I  looked  into 
the  adjoining  chamber.  It  was  empty.  Then  I 
proceeded  to  attire  myself  in  the  most  discon- 
nected manner,  sitting  on  the  edge  of  the  bed 
with  one  shoe  on  my  foot  and  the  other  in  my 

215 


TANGLED    UP   IN    BEULAH    LAND 

hand  —  listening  to  the  rain  and  trying  to  recall 
what  it  was  I  said  to  Polly  in  the  phaeton. 

These  summer  rains  that  borrow  the  melan- 
choly of  October  and  pour  it  steadily  for  hours  out 
of  unlit  skies  have  an  occult  retroactive  effect. 
They  suggest  a  chilliness  that  does  not  exist. 
They  make  you  huddle  and  remember.  You 
light  wood  fires  in  the  large  rooms,  but  they  burn 
pallidly  and  spit  reproachfully,  —  like  things  born 
out  of  season,  —  and  your  convivial  circle  falls  into 
commonplaces  of  impatience  and  supposes  "  this 
has  set  in  for  a  week,"  and,  being  in  the  country, 
thinks  of  the  roads. 

However,  the  weather  is  often  singularly  apro- 
pos, and  at  this  time  it  was  only  trying  to  supple- 
ment the  chill  that  had  settled  on  the  group  in 
the  Doctor's  establishment.  I  could  hear  a  mono- 
tone of  voices  in  the  room  beneath,  and  I  learned 
when  I  came  downstairs  that  //<?and  Mother  were 
having  it  out  behind  locked  doors.  A  slight  oscil- 
lation suggested  that  the  Doctor  was  walking  the 
floor,  and  a  lack  of  femininity  in  the  tones  implied 
that  Mother  had  her  fingers  on  her  lips. 

No  coffee  in  the  hall.  I  looked  at  the  bare 
little  table  and  wondered  if  it  was  intentional  or 
accidental.  I  tried  the  porch.  The  rain  blew  in 
upon  it,  and  when  I  turned  the  corner  a  wet  blast 
smote  me  and  I  buttoned  up  my  coat.  The  pros- 
pect was  shivery  and  dripping.  Recreant  Nature 
that  had  been  saying  for  so  many  days,  "  When 
you  get  tired  of  each  other  come  out  here  to  me 
—  I  have  zithers  and  tabernacles  and  companion- 

216 


POLLY   UNTANGLES 

ship  "  —  now  seemed  to  wear  a  vindictive  spite  and 
say,  "  Fall  back  on  your  humanities,  you  mis- 
erable, overweening  mortals  !  "  . 

It  is  at  such  times  that  the  overweening  mor- 
tals have  a  fine  opportunity  to  snap  their  fingers 
in  the  face  of  Nature  and  laugh  at  its  storm  ca- 
prices, and  mortals  now  and  then  avail  themselves 
of  it  with  all  the  exuberant  authority  of  Lords  and 
Masters.  We  all  remember  hours  when  Boreas 
only  incited  us  to  defiant  revelry.  We  have,  most 
of  us,  been  shut  up  by  the  weather  at  some  time 
in  big,  rambling,  isolated  houses  where  we  were 
besieged  by  storms.  And  what  a  jolly  contempt- 
uous defence  we  made  of  it.  How  we  heaped  up 
the  logs  and  laughed  through  the  frosty  panes  at 
the  snow-drifts  and  the  cohorts  of  winter.  What 
games  we  played,  what  forfeits  we  paid  and  exacted. 
We  never  heard  the  shriek  of  the  wind,  or,  if  we 
did,  it  only  spurred  our  merry-making.  What  a 
shame  it  is  that  we  lose  our  power  of  resistance  as 
we  get  wiser. 

But  the  breakfast  ?  Oh,  yes,  we  assembled  at 
the  breakfast  table.  But  we  seemed  to  have  made 
a  tacit  agreement  to  preserve  the  relations  of  guests 
and  host  and  not  disturb  any  family  secrets.  It 
was  evident  that  the  Doctor  and  Mother  had  as- 
sumed an  extra  air  of  polite  formality.  They  spoke 
rather  elaborately  about  the  weather,  and  the  Doc- 
tor seemed  to  think  it  was  a  subject  that  we  ought 
to  consider  specially  interesting. 

There  was  lo's  empty  chair  on  one  side  and 
Polly's  on  the  other.  Charlie  came  in  a  little  out 

217 


TANGLED  UP  IN  BEULAH  LAND 

of  breath,  made  an  apology  for  keeping  us  waiting, 
and  sat  down  next  to  one  of  the  empty  chairs  and 
took  up  the  theme  of  the  weather  as  if  he  had 
been  cramming  for  it.  How  my  voluble  and 
thoroughly  feminine  half-sister  managed  to  fit 
herself  to  the  prohibitory  reticences  of  that  break- 
fast, I  do  not  know.  But  women  measure  the 
social  atmosphere  with  inscrutable  nicety,  and  she 
and  Madame  Coldcream  spoke  of  the  necessity  of 
hurrying  back  to  New  York  with  as  cool  a  recog- 
nition of  a  change  in  the  weather  as  if  there  had 
been  a  bankruptcy  in  the  family,  to  which  the  Doc- 
tor regretted  that  their  engagements  were  such  that 
they  could  not  stay,  such  weather  was  enough  to 
drive  even  a  philosopher  to  the  city.  Charlie 
looked  up  at  me,  as  if  he  expected  me  to  go  with 
the  ladies.  But  I  was  not  giving  special  heed  to  the 
drift  of  commonplace,  and  so  the  breakfast  came 
to  an  end,  and  everybody  had  a  disposition  to  go 
off  where  nobody  would  interfere  with  the  indi- 
vidual glumness.  Nevertheless  I  seized  my  esti- 
mable half-sister  by  the  arm,  just  as  she  had 
gathered  her  skirts  for  an  exit  up  the  stairs. 

"  Petunia,"  I  said,  "  come  into  the  parlour  a 
moment,  there  is  no  good  reason  why  you  and  I 
should  congeal." 

"  Congeal,"  she  repeated,  dropping  her  skirts. 
"  I  feel  as  if  I  were  in  a  refrigerator.  Your  friend 
regards  me  as  a  traitor  in  the  bosom  of  his  family 
—  and  the  worst  of  it  is,  I  suppose  I  am." 

"Nonsense.  He  is  generally  disgruntled.  He 
will  get  over  it  in  a  day  or  two." 

218 


POLLY   UNTANGLES 

"  Are  you  going  to  stay  and  wait  for  it  ?  "  she 
asked. 

"  I  am  not  going  to  do  anything  rash.  Let  me 
advise  you  to  wait  till  the  weather  changes,  and 
not  rush  off  in  this  storm." 

We  walked  into  the  parlour  and  stood  at  one 
of  the  windows,  looking  unobservantly  out  at  the 
steady  downpour. 

"You  see,"  she  said,  "the  Doctor  suspects  me 
of  having  a  hand  in  this  folly  of  lo's.  But  he 
does  me  a  great  injustice.  I  had  only  a  finger 
in  it.  There,  there  !  do  keep  quiet  a  moment  if 
you  want  me  to  tell  you.  I  had  an  inkling  of 
Mr.  Fancher's  infatuation,  and  as  I  thought  your 
duckling  might  be  similarly  ensnared  I  thought 
I'd  run  down  here  and  if  necessary  throw  my 
weight  in  with  your  son's.  It  took  me  just  about 
half  an  hour  to  understand  that  Charlie  was  not 
in  the  race,  and  so  I  kept  my  mouth  shut  and  let 
Nature  take  its  course,  but  I  did  not  suppose 
that  the  maiden  would  go  flying  off  like  a  lunatic 
after  that  picnic.  Let  me  tell  you  that  it  is  a  pre- 
cious good  thing  that  Fancher's  got  her  and  your 
son  has  not.  You  had  better  pack  your  satchel 
and  come  back  with  me,  now  that  the  farce  is 
ended.  I  must  go  and  change  my  dress.  Do 
you  know  anything  about  that  three  o'clock  train  ? 
—  perhaps  you  think  by  staying  here  there  will 
be  another  elopement  —  men  get  morbid  by  let- 
ting their  minds  dwell  on  these  things." 

"  You  must  not  go  off  on  that  three  o'clock 
way-train.  Wait  till  morning,  there's  a  through 

219 


TANGLED  UP  IN  BEULAH  LAND 

express  stops  for  water  at  ten.  I  must  straighten 
out  matters  with  the  Doctor.  If  I  fail,  I'll  go 
with  you  in  the  morning." 

My  efforts  to  patch  up  matters  did  not  begin 
promisingly.  My  sister  did  not  like  the  idea  of 
staying  over  another  night,  and  she  hurried  off  to 
change  her  dress.  I  called  her  back. 

"If  you  would  not  be  in  such  a  fussy  hurry," 
I  said,  "  I  might  be  induced  to  go  with  you.  Why 
not  listen  to  me  ?  " 

"  I  cannot  imagine  what  there  is  to  listen  to," 
she  replied.  "  I  am  anxious  to  get  back.  You 
are  not." 

"  How  do  you  know  ?  I  am  beginning  to  feel 
uncomfortable  here.  The  Doctor  is  sore  at  what 
has  happened  and  thinks  Charlie  and  I  could 
have  prevented  it.  Charlie  half  suspects  that  I 
want  to  go  back  on  Madame  Coldcream's  account. 
Mother  is  piqued  because  she  thinks  I  tried  to 
interfere  with  her  scheme.  Polly  believes  that 
the  Doctor  and  I  wanted  Charlie  to  marry  lo, 
and  you  think  I  am  a  fool  for  interfering  with 
Charlie's  infatuation  in  New  York.  You  see  I 
have  much  more  reason  to  clear  out  than  you 
have,  but  I  preserve  my  equanimity  and  look  at 
matters  calmly." 

"  Yes,  considering  that  you  have  fallen  in  love 
with  Polly  yourself^  you  do  preserve  a  certain  air 
of  indifference." 

"Oh,  come  now  —  " 

"It  is  as  plain  as  a  pike  staff,  whatever  that  is. 
I  don't  wonder  the  Doctor  expected  you  to  use 

220 


POLLY   UNTANGLES 

your  parental  influence  in  marrying  off  your  son 
to  lo.  I  should  think  you  would  feel  rather 
cheap  about  it  after  all  you  said  to  me  in  New 
York  of  your  son's  folly.  You  do,  don't  you, 
when  Charlie  is  about  ?  I  notice  you  are  not 
much  together." 

This  speech  nettled  me  —  perhaps  on  account 
of  the  truth  in  it. 

"  Oh,  if  you  feel  that  way  about  the  matter," 
I  said,  "  perhaps  the  less  we  say  about  it  the 
better.  If  it  hadn't  been  for  your  mischievous 
suggestion  about  Madame  Coldcream,  Charlie  and 
I  would  have  retained  our  confidence  in  each  other 
to  the  end." 

"  Had  you  taken  my  suggestion,"  replied 
Petunia,  "your  son  could  not  have  helped 
himself." 

"  True,  we  should  have  both  been  helpless." 

Then  she  went  up  the  stairs. 

How  it  did  rain  !  I  poked  about  in  the  empty 
rooms  aimlessly.  Everything  in  the  old  house 
seemed  to  have  quit  business.  There  was  an 
open  book  on  the  library  table  beside  the  big 
chair.  "  Hewitt's  Cranberry  Culture."  Faugh  ! 
It  sounded  marshy  and  wet.  I  sat  down  and  let 
my  thoughts  wander  off  to  the  comfortable  Club 
in  the  city.  While  I  sat  there  the  Doctor  came  in, 
and  seeing  me,  shut  the  library  door.  He  looked 
so  much  like  a  bull  that  I  could  not  help  taking 
him  by  the  horns,  as  it  were. 

"You  are  pretty  badly  smashed  up  by  this 
business,  Doctor,"  I  said. 

221 


TANGLED  UP  IN  BEULAH  LAND 

He  took  out  his  bandanna  and  wiped  the  rain 
from  his  face. 

"If  there  is  anything  that  I  have  set  great  store 
on  all  my  life,"  he  said,  "it  is  honesty  and  fair 
dealing  among  friends." 

"  True,  in  that  we  are  one,"  I  replied  en- 
couragingly. 

"Not  at  all!  Not  at  all!"  and  he  began 
fumbling  in  his  breast  pocket  for  the  letter  I 
wrote  him  from  New  York. 

I  held  up  my  hand. 

"  Why  go  back  to  that,"  I  said.  "  Let  us  deal 
with  the  present.  I  am  as  completely  taken 
aback  by  what  has  occurred  as  you  are." 

"  You  speak  as  if  some  one  had  deceived  you 
too." 

"  If  any  one  has  deceived  you,  Doctor,  it  was 
not  me.  I  am  surprised  at  your  imputation." 

"  There's  your  letter,"  he  replied,  throwing  it 
on  the  table.  "You  had  better  refresh  your 
mind." 

"About  what?" 

"  See  here,  my  old  friend,"  he  said,  "  if  you 
think  you  have  treated  me  with  exact  fairness,  I 
am  not  going  to  disturb  your  conviction.  We 
can  at  least  disagree  about  some  things  without 
forgetting  our  present  relations  as  host  and 
guest." 

I  felt  my  cheek  burn  a  little  as  I  got  up  and 
we  stood  facing  each  other  across  the  table. 

"  Doctor,"  I  exclaimed  impulsively,  "  our 
relations  as  guest  and  host  need  not  interfere 

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POLLY   UNTANGLES 

with  the  expression  of  our  opinions  of  each  other. 
The  relations  can  cease  from  this  moment  if  you 
desire  more  latitude  of  suspicion." 

"  My  share  of  the  relation  forbids  me  to  reply 
in  kind,"  he  said.  "  You  are  in  my  house." 

"  Perhaps  that  is  unfortunate,  but  it  is  not 
irremediable.  I  beg  your  pardon,  but  nothing  is 
easier  than  to  readjust  our  relations  if  it  will  give 
you  a  better  command  of  language." 

Then  I  took  two  steps  toward  the  door  and 
came  face  to  face  with  Charlie. 

"Ah,  there  you  are,  my  boy,"  I  said.  "Just 
in  time,  we  go  back  at  three.  Get  your  things 
together." 

He  looked  from  me  to  the  Doctor  who  had 
walked  to  the  window  and  was  examining  the 
barometer  with  his  back  towards  us. 

"  What's  the  matter  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  We  have  forfeited  the  Doctor's  respect  be- 
cause we  let  Mr.  Fancher  carry  off  Miss  lo." 

"  Pardon  me,"  said  the  Doctor,  turning  round. 
"  Do  you  think  that  is  a  fair  explanation  ?  " 

"  I  think  it  is  accurate,"  I  replied. 

"  It  isn't  anything  of  the  sort.  Charlie,  my 
boy,"  he  said,  striding  over  and  putting  his  hand 
on  my  son's  shoulder,  "  I  had  great  hopes  of  you. 
I  didn't  think  that  you  would  permit  yourself  to 
be  beaten  in  a  game  of  this  kind." 

Charlie  hung  his  head  a  little. 

"Speak  up,"  I  said.  "What's  the  matter 
with  you  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Charlie,  "  unless  it  is 
223 


TANGLED  UP  IN  BEULAH  LAND 

that  I  am  one  of  those  fellows  who  do  not  know 
when  they  are  beaten." 

"  Well,  if  you  do  not  know  it  by  this  time 
you  never  will,  and  I  give  you  up.  Between  the 
lot  of  you  I  must  look  like  a  consummate  old 
guy.  But  I  deserve  it.  I  deserve  it  for  med- 
dling with  such  tomfoolery  at  my  age." 

Then  the  Doctor  went  over  and  looked  at  the 
barometer  again  with  his  back  toward  us,  and  I 
really  believe  the  old  savage  was  affected.  It  is 
astonishing  how  much  pathos  a  man  can  put  into 
his  back.  For  a  moment  I  felt  sorry  for  the 
Doctor  who,  having  lost  a  choice  piece  of  bric- 
a-brac,  must  look  bereaved  even  in  the  rear.  I 
could  imagine  how  a  man  must  suffer  who  is  robbed 
of  a  Fortuny  that  has  gladdened  him  for  years. 
It  was  not  the  moment  to  speak  to  him  about 
carrying  off  his  remaining  picture. 

"  Doctor,"  I  said,  "  it  is  very  unfortunate  that 
you  and  I  should  allow  a  misunderstanding  of  so 
trivial  a  nature  to  strain  the  friendship  of  years." 

"  Trivial !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  Confound  it,  sir, 
it  goes  to  my  marrow.  A  man  at  my  age  doesn't 
like  to  be  made  a  monkey  of.  I  told  you  why  I 
had  set  my  mind  on  this  thing,  and  was  weak 
enough  to  believe  that  you  understood  my  posi- 
tion in  the  matter." 

"  I  believe  I  did." 

"  See  here  !  "  he  shouted.  "  You  ought  to 
know  that  what  I  was  trying  to  do  was  to  keep 
together  a  little  group  that  I  had  gathered  about 
me  in  my  decline.  It  was  the  only  thing  I  had 

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POLLY   UNTANGLES 

to  live  for  down  here.  A  man  hates  to  see  his 
work  all  go  to  pieces  when  he  takes  his  hand  off. 
Confourid  that  ungrateful  baggage  —  after  all  I 
have  done  for  her.  Gentlemen,  I  feel  as  if  I  had 
lost  a  leg.  I  should  think  you  would  have  some 
sympathy  for  me." 

At  that  moment  the  sun  broke  out  and  came  in 
a  deep  yellow  shaft  through  the  bay  window. 
Everything  outside  sparkled  and  danced  in  pris- 
matic splendour.  And  then,  as  if  it  were  part  of 
it,  came  the  voice  of  Polly  —  that  same  roulading 
exultation.  We  looked  at  each  other  a  second, 
and  the  Doctor  opened  the  sash. 

"  You  have  Polly,  Doctor,"  I  said. 

"  Have  I  ?  "  he  snapped.  "  How  long  will  I 
have  her,  do  you  suppose  ?  How  long  will  I  have 
anything  ?  " 

"  Call  her  in  and  ask  her,"  said  Charlie,  with 
appropriate  imbecility. 

She  must  have  glittered  into  view,  for  we  heard 
her  say,  "  Come  out  on  the  gravel,  there's  a  rain- 
bow." 

"  You  come  in  here,  you  infatuated  treetoad,  I 
want  to  chain  you  down,"  cried  the  Doctor,  and 
a  moment  later  she  appeared  at  the  door,  looking 
as  if  she  had  brought  the  rainbow  with  her.  She 
gave  one  quick  look  at  the  solemn  trio,  let  out  a 
gurgle,  and  then  clapping  her  hand  on  her  mouth 
tried  to  look  solemn  like  the  rest  of  us. 

"  Polly,"  I  said,  jumping  into  the  breach,  "  the 
Doctor  has  lost  one  of  his  girls,  and  he  wants  to 
feel  assured  that  he  will  not  lose  the  other." 

225 


TANGLED  UP  IN  BEULAH  LAND 

"  Oh,  the  other  doesn't  count,"  said  Polly,  de- 
murely. 

"  None  of  your  twitters,"  cried  the  Doctor. 

"  Pardon  me,  Doctor,"  I  said.  "  This  goes  to 
my  marrow.  Pray  be  serious.  I  had  the  privi- 
lege of  asking  this  young  lady  if,  in  a  certain  con- 
tingency, she  would  be  my  wife.  Her  reply  was 
remarkable." 

"  It  couldn't  be  as  remarkable  as  the  question," 
said  the  Doctor. 

"  Why  not  ?     Her  answer  was, '  Yes,  sir.' ' 

"  It  was  quite  safe.  He  knew  I  was  engaged 
already,"  simpered  Polly. 

"  Engaged,  were  you,  already  ! "  snorted  the 
Doctor  —  "  and  under  my  very  eyes  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir,"  replied  Polly,  hanging  her  head. 
"  I  couldn't  marry  both  of  them.  He  must  have 
known  that,  and  besides"  —  said  the  minx,  drop- 
ping her  head  lower  and  looking  out  of  the  cor- 
ner of  her  eye  at  Charlie  — "  either  one  would 
do." 

"You  see,  Doctor,"  said  Charlie,  "I  couldn't 
help  myself  when  it  was  a  question  of  saving  my 
Dad.  I  promised  his  sister,  my  aunt,  to  look 
after  him  down  here." 

"That's  all  you  want  of  me,  isn't  it?"  asked 
Polly,  edging  off  toward  the  door. 

"  Come  back  here,  you  inscrutable  jack-o'-lan- 
tern !  "  shouted  the  Doctor.  "  So  you  are  going 
to  marry  Charlie,  are  you  ?  " 

"  Either  Charlie  or  his  father,"  said  Polly,  put- 
ting her  hands  over  her  eyes  as  if  to  shut  out  the 

226 


POLLY    UNTANGLES 

prospect.  "  Why  not  let  them  settle  it  between 
them  ?  " 

"  Very  well,"  ejaculated  the  Doctor,  sitting  down 
helplessly.  "  Go  it.  Clear  out,  all  of  you,  and 
leave  me  to  my  dogs.  Here,  come  here,  you 
twittering  ingrate  "  —  and  he  pulled  out  a  drawer 
of  his  writing  table  —  "here,  take  these  with  you, 
I  bought  them  for  lo,"  and  he  pulled  out  two  or 
three  little  boxes. 

She  floated  over  somehow  and  got  her  arm 
round  the  old  man's  neck. 

"  I  am  not  going  away.  Nobody's  going  away. 
Everybody's  going  to  stay,  till  it's  over  —  and 
I'm  going  to  stay  after  it  is  —  for  keeps.  You 
can't  drive  me  out." 

"  Nor  me,"  said  Charlie. 

I  took  a  full  breath.  "Nor  me,"  I  added  quite 
resolutely. 

The  Doctor  looked  a  little  baffled  and  helpless 
for  the  first  time  in  his  life,  so  I  went  over  and 
extended  my  hand. 

"  Old  friend,"  I  said,  "  there's  one  comfort  left 
to  us.  If  we  cannot  be  fathers  again  at  our  age, 
let  us  be  father' s-in-law.  What  do  you  say  ?  " 

"  Say  yes,"  whispered  Polly  in  his  ear. 

He  gave  me  his  hand. 

"  Wait  a  moment,"  cried  Polly.  "  I'll  go  up 
and  stop  the  packing." 

And  she  did.     We  all  stayed. 

Charlie  is  staying  there  yet.  He  is  raising  cran- 
berries. 


227 


A    000118705    3 


